#also we’re not gonna talk about the wounds on my chest

[bondagebimbo]

not me mid video realizing my idiot ass thumb leaned forward and hit the record button, while I was trying to just admire my highlight in the light I was in when taking pictures on Snapchat earlier with the freckle filter as if it was a mirror, and trying to save it with a peace sign at the end because I’m just …. Like This™️, unfortunately idfk 🫠

[goldessia]

RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader

sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.

warnings. smut, mdni! power imbalance (implied), slight degration, risky / quickie, scandal, sort of slowburn, reader had a small quirk (can manipulate small doses of water), intoxication, smut in later parts.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)

a/n. ty to @cafekitsune for the borders / dividers!

“YOU do know the risks, right?” my room-mate, mina, says, “i mean, i went to school with bakugo. he’s not a very.. nice person, and publicly placing yourself as his assistant could make you a target.”

i nod. “i know that.” i say, stuffing some things into my purse, “but i need this job. i love you, mina, but right now we kind of need the extra income. we’re not getting much with your job.”

she groans in frustration, “i know! but, all the villains lately just aren’t compatible with my quirk, so i’ve been leaving it to the others..” she sighs, rubbing her face.

“yeah, i know.” i say, slinging my purse over my shoulder, “it’ll just be temporary until you get back on your roll.”

“more like temporary because dynamight’ll kill you before that.” she snorts.

picking up my keys, i scoff, “i’m sure he’s not that bad. maybe he’s just a stressed out person!”

“sure. just come home in one piece, alright?” she chuckles, taking a sip of her cold coffee.

i roll my eyes and step out the door, finding my car and opening my phone for the directions to the agency.

the agency was easy enough to find — right in the middle of town with a sign in bright, orange colours: “the dynamight agency”.

i guess when you’re the #1 hero you don’t have to be scared to be found. in fact, looking at the giant building, i suspect he wants to be found; to be challenged, and to show them why he has the title of number one hero.

..and i also suspect this guy needs a serious ego check.

but i couldn’t lie and say i didn’t feel nervous. anxiety rushed through me, daring to glue me to this spot and not enter the building.

despite this, i walk through the front doors accidentally pushing a pull door and make my way to the front-desk where a pretty woman sits with two body guards beside her.

“hi,” i whisper, “i’m uh, here for the interview.. for the assistant?”

“oh! yes, you’re right on time.” she smiles, clicking a few buttons on her keyboard, “you’ll have to take the elevator up to the fiftieth floor, and in room A3.

“you’ll find a few of dynamight’s personnel as well as himself. he insisted on being there.. considering if you’re accepted you’ll be seeing a lot of eachother for a long while.”

my heart skips a beat.

“dynamight’s.. gonna be there?” i say, my eyes widening.

the lady hums, nodding her head like it was something normal to sit and have a talk with the number one hero.

i gulp, but mutter a, “thank you,” walking toward the elevators while clutching my purse with clammy hands.

pressing the button to the fiftieth floor, i feel anxiety rush through me. who was i thinking, applying for this job? i can’t handle being the assistant to dynamight!

i groaned, slapping my forehead as the reality finally set in.

i should’ve just listened to mina, and applied for some desk job or something. i figured, why not go above and beyond?

i’m so stupid!

ding!

the elevator doors open, and about a gazillion people rush into the elevator muttering nonsense to eachother or into their phones. majority held a briefcase — some are just holding loose papers, clutching onto them like their life depends on it.

i’m suddenly pushed to the back, and i try to mutter a few “excuse me”s, but to no avail — none of them could hear me, too zoned out in their own realities to care.

i was trapped.

suddenly i hear an explosion. a minor one, but undeniable.

my heart skips out of my chest. was there a villian? i’m in an elevator with fifteen people! i’m so dead. what was i thinking?!

“WHERE IS THAT DAMN ASSISTANT?” a voice screams, becoming louder by the second. “she’s late!”

“i’m sorry, dynamight, but it’s only been two minut-“

“SHUT UP! i didn’t ask you.” dynamight’s voice is now clearly in-front of us.

and then, i see him.

he’s tall, menacing — still in his hero costume that i recognize seeing on television when i was a teenager, just a little changed up.

the look on his face was undeniable. red, hot anger spilled from his aura as his eyes scanned the group of frightened workers, all frozen in place and have halted their calls and conversations.

i feel myself freeze when his eyes glaze over me, before halting. his eyes narrow, before he lifts a hand and points.

“you.” he says. “‘cmere, will ya?”

everyone’s eyes flick to me. i gulp, before nodding and slowly trying to make my way through the crowd.

“well, move out her damn way then!” dynamight hisses, and suddenly i see a path in front of me where there used to be people.

i take a deep breath, and with newfound confidence i walk forward, never breaking my eyes from his as i find myself beside him.

he snorts.

turning on his heel, he begins walking. hesitantly, i start walking beside him. he gives me a quick glare, expecting me to dip behind him but i don’t.

like i said before: he needs an ego check, and this is it.

he scoffs. “so, you’re my new assistant, or whatever?” he says, looking ahead again.

“well, i haven’t done the interview yet. so, maybe?” i say, masking my nervousness by remaining cold still except for my legs that are struggling to keep up with the hero’s pace.

he tuts. “fuck that. you’re hired, from here on out.”

then, he stops. he stands in-front of me, and it suddenly hits me how much taller he is, as he towers over me quite easily.

“which means you’ll do as i say when i say it. you work seven days a week, doing all my boring work i don’t want to do. got it?”

“seven?” my brows furrowed, “the agency said five—“

“yeah, well i say seven.” he spits, before pushing open a door. “this is your office. i’m across the hall.

“you’ll come when i call you. you’ll be dealing with all of my publicity shit as well.”

i shift on my feet. “yes, uh… sir?” i test, cringing at my own words.

his brows furrow, and his chin tips up. “good.” he says, before turning on his heel, “my manager will send you a list of things to do. get working on it.”

with that, he walks away.

my first interaction with my new boss, dynamight, couldn’t have gone any worse.

after the first few weeks, i was spent. i’d never run around so much and dealt with such work since my first year in college.

after a long day in the office, dealing with one of dynamight’s scandals—he had hooked up with another pro hero—i finally was able to go home. it was 5:30, which meant i was already in overtime.

packing up my stuff, i push open the glass door that is my office. music played through my earphones, just a simple playlist that consisted of my favourite songs i grew up on.

“y/n.”

i hum along to the tune, scrolling on my phone as i walked toward the elevator.

“y/n?”

a notification popped up; mina had texted me asking to swing by a grocery store to pick up something for dinner.

as i begun typing a reply, i was quickly stopped when i felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and turn me around.

my heart stops in my chest as dynamight glares over me, before ripping out my earphone and scoffing.

“i called you fifty times. next time, you’ll listen, alright?” he spits.

“you were— huh?” my brows furrow.

“fuck, are you deaf, or something?!” he stops himself, rubbing his eyes before inhaling a deep breath, “a word. in my office.”

he starts walking to his office, before i speak. “sir, i— i’m already in overtime as it is. respectfully, with your recent.. scandal, i haven’t gotten much time to rest. this is my one time to.”

his steps slowly halt. he turns, glaring with those ruby eyes straight into my soul.

“in my office, y/n. now.” he seethes, “the amount of rest you get isn’t my concern.”

maybe i would’ve gotten more rest if you learned to just keep it in your pants, i think but i do not say.

“you got a problem with my orders?” he stares, testing me, trying to provoke me.

i stare back. with a sharp inhale, i mutter a—“no, sir.” while beginning on my already aching feet.

i hear another notification on my phone.

mina

girl, where are you!! foods gonna get cold

taking a quick look to dynamight, i try to quickly type back.

me

i know, sorry, will be there shortly

mr. explosion murder is mad at me 😬

mina

oh damn

praying 4 u girl

“texting your boyfriend?” dynamight scoffs, to which i quickly put my phone away.

“oh uh— no, sir.” i clear my throat.

he looks ahead and murmurs a, “good.”

“what?”

he opens the door to his office with such force i jump, the door nearly grazing my nose. he stands in-front of it, gesturing for me to enter.

when he does, he closes the door behind him.

i try to mask my nervousness, but it’s nearly impossible—who wouldn’t be nervous to be alone in a room with dynamight?

“what’d you want to talk to me about, sir?” i ask, fixing the glasses on my nose— just a small prescription, mostly for looks since i thought they were cute.

he stalks toward the chair tucked neatly into the desk in the middle of the room. sitting on it, he gestures for me to sit as well.

hesitantly, i do, folding my hands neatly in my lap.

“the board wanted me to discuss something with you,” dynamight states, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his open thighs.

oh gods. what is so big that the board wanted dynamight himself to talk to me alone about? was i being fired? was my work not good enough? was —

“your clothing.” he states, “you need to dress more formally.” he looks me over, eyes gesturing to the jeans and tank-top i had on.

i blink. “you.. you pulled me in here just to talk about what i wear?”

he runs a hand over his chin, inhaling. he has a slight stubble along his jaw and neck; the result of overworking himself the past few days.

lately, i’ve noticed a spike in his working hours, working longer than he usually does and longer than he needs to.

the biggest question is: why do i feel like i need to care for dynamight?

“not necessarily.” he states, leaning forward, “i’m going across tokyo for a mission. i want you to come with me.”

“what?” my brows furrow, “why?”

he sighs, “because.. i haven’t been out outside of work since my scandal, let alone talked to the press. i need you there to handle that shit for me so i can do my job.”

i ponder with his words, “..okay. well, i’d have to check with—“

“it’s not a question. it’s your job,” dynamight’s voice suddenly turns harsh, “we’re leaving tomorrow morning. i’ll pick you up by seven.”

“but you don’t know where i—“

“i know where you live.” he says, standing, peering me over when he sees i’m confused, “it’s in your work file.” he adds.

“oh. right.” i sigh in relief, thankful he wasn’t some stalker who found out where i lived by following me home.

wait, why would he even do that in the first place? whatever..

the door opens, and i turn to see dynamight standing irritably beside it. catching up on context clues, i grab my things and rush out the room.

that is, before i’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder. he leans closer, glaring ahead of him. i can feel the heat emitting from his hand, his body, and i freeze beneath his aura.

“and y/n?” he says, “if you’re going to wear that shirt.. wear a fucking bra next time.” he seethes.

practically pushing me out the room, i feel the door slam behind me.

i feel my face flush as i peer down to my shirt — i thought i could get away without wearing one today but i guess i was wrong.

fuck. how embarrassing was that?!

mina:

u alive?

me:

FML!!!

after i had gotten home, i told mina everything. needless to say, she was shocked — “seriously? travelling across the country with bakugo?”

“yeah. and for a week!”

“oh, you’re so done for.” she snorts, “i could barely handle a few hours with that kid back in highschool, let alone be with him all day long.”

i sigh, taking a sip of my water, placing it on the counter as i jump up to sit on it.

“he’s not.. that bad.” i cringe at my own words, “just a little misunderstood.”

“oh, please.”

“serious!” i cry, taking a bite of my donut, “i mean, he is an asshole, but working alongside him isn’t so bad.

“plus, majority of time he’ll just be ripping up some villains. all i get is some sweet vacation.” i shrug.

mina spares me a look, “are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him, or something?”

i gasp. a harsh blush finds my cheeks, and i want to crumble in on myself. “what? no!” my voice cracks as i am quick to defend myself.

she snorts. “you’re only ever like this when you have a crush!”

“am not.” i say, hiding my face from her.

“you’re blushinggg..” she teases, “you so have a crush on him!

groaning, i jump off the counter and make my way to the couch instead of the kitchen.

“don’t try and hide it!” mina calls from the kitchen. i roll my eyes and ignore her, flicking on the television.

the news was on.

the lady on the screen speaks, “number one hero, dynamight, was seen only two days ago with a top-ten hero. rumours have speculated about the two — are they dating, or was it just a fling? here’s what we think…”

i groan. another mention of this stupid scandal was gonna make my head explode.

the press didn’t know who it was he had slept with, but i did — it was double trouble, a hero with a doubled voice quirk that could control others bodies.

i always thought she was cool. standing at fourth place, she was a well known pro-hero in the area.

and also known to be happily married with two kids.

so why, on earth, did dynamight have to sleep with her? he had to be stupid to, she was pretty, but he really needed to get better with his publicity skills.

being the cause of an affair wasn’t getting better at it.

and if any information got out of it being double trouble, he’d not only have ruined his reputation but ruined double troubles life.

so, i spent the last week making sure every last bit of this scandal was wrapped up and sealed away. everything on the internet, security cameras, was wiped out of the world.

turning on one of my favourite shows, i set down my phone and get comfortable on the couch.

finally, i could relax.

and slowly, but surely, i fall into a slumber.

..

nearly an hour later, i hear a knock at the door. i groan, annoyed my sleep was disrupted and even more annoyed someone decided to knock on my door at midnight.

“can’t i just get one night of peace?” i mumble to myself as i push myself off the couch, fixing the tank-top strap on my shoulder.

walking to the door, i run a hand through my hair to attempt to tame the wild mess caused by sleep.

i open it, the door creaking as i did, peeking my head out the door. and…

i see no other thank katsuki bakugo, better known as dynamight.

he’s clutching the side of his torso, clutching the doorframe as he attempts to keep himself up.

he looks up, cheeks flushed, wearing casual wear — well, casual until you see the giant blood stain ruining his white tee shirt.

“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you. 

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said. 

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong. 

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze. 

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Burt Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise. 

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous. 

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”  

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely. 

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself. 

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said. 

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded. 

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through. 

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him. 

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night. 

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

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[celestialglow24]

••• Even Still •••

Frank Castle x AFAB reader

Frank is upset with you when you put yourself in harms way

once again i was in my frank feels and got a little carried away with this one. enjoy xx

“Don’t.”

He cut you off before you could even finish saying his name. You bit your tongue hard as you watched him insert another stitch on your forearm.

The pounding in your head was relentless and you did your best to ignore the buzz emitting from the lights in the bathroom.

It felt as though it was right in your ears.

Your chest rose and fell slowly — each breath feeling like a knife was being jammed into your side. More than likely you had a few broken ribs.

It hurt to talk and smile but at least your split lip had finally stopped bleeding. The soreness around your eyes reminded you of the probable bruises that would be there to greet you tomorrow morning.

You hadn’t planned on getting hurt. You hadn’t really planned on any of the events of tonight.

But when the opportunity came up for you to go after the men who killed your brother, there was no way you could turn it down.

You didn’t think about the possible consequences.

You didn’t care.

All you could see was the vision of your brother’s mutilated body. All you could hear were the screams from your mother when the police had come to deliver the news.

So you sought your own justice— with help from a certain red vigilante that your boyfriend wasn’t particularly fond of.

The tension in the bathroom was palpable. You wanted so badly to say something sassy, but Frank was the one with a needle and thread in his hand.

While you knew he would never purposely inflict pain, you wouldn’t put it past him to fix you with a little more pressure and force than was probably necessary.

So instead you waited until he finished covering your stitched wound with a bandage and gauze.

You didn’t move from your seat as he started cleaning up the supplies and you refused to look at him. You kept your gaze off to the side, looking toward the bathroom window at the few cars that drove down the quiet midnight street.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry? I thought you would understand more than anyone why I did what I did.”

It was a low blow and you regretted it as soon as the words left your mouth. It wasn’t fair to throw that in his face but it also wasn’t fair that you got the cold shoulder when you weren’t all that different.

You couldn’t comprehend why it was okay for him to consistently put himself in dangerous situations but god forbid you do it one time.

He didn’t respond. He just continued to clean. For some reason that irritated you more than if he would’ve bit back with something even lower.

“Frank.” you prodded, this time finally turning to look at him. Again he ignored you, shoving the first aid kit back under the bathroom sink.

“Is this really what we’re gonna do? You’re gonna pretend like i’m not he-”

He grabbed your chin and jutted it up toward him. It didn’t hurt you, just startled you more than anything.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

His voice was low, and while he tried to keep up his usual tough, stoic demeanor, you detected a hint of hurt in his voice.

You weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Hm?” he squeezed your chin gently when you hadn’t responded.

You avoided his gaze now, uncomfortable with his searching eyes. He could always see right through you. No matter how much you tried to close him out, it never worked.

“Because I knew you would’ve said no.”

As the words left your mouth you could hear how dejected you sounded. You were tired and really didn’t want to get in a screaming match with Frank tonight. You were just happy to be home and alive.

“You’re damn right I would’ve.”, he quipped. “It was a stupid thing to do.”

You scoffed, finally pushing his hand off your chin and crossing your arms.

“I did what was necessary.”

“No, you got fucking lucky. I mean what the hell were you thinkin? You really thought you could take on a group of those guys by yourself and win? You were just a doe heading straight into a lion's den.” he said incredulously.

“That’s why I didn’t go by myself, Frank.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m stubborn, not naive.”

“Oh right. ‘Scuse me. You and Red. The dynamic fucking duo.”

He was definitely hurt. There was no denying that. From the outside you could understand how it looked. Turning to someone he couldn’t stand for help instead of coming to him.

You realize now he wasn’t asking why you didn’t ask for his permission.

He was wanting to know why you didn’t ask him to be the one to go with you. Why did you go to Matt Murdock of all people?

But if you had gone to Frank you know he would’ve stopped you. Those men would still be alive right now and on their way to hurt someone else. To destroy some other family. You couldn’t let that happen.

Matt tried to stop you too but you had a bit more leeway with getting him to go along with you than Frank.

You knew even if he objected to it, Matt would reluctantly follow alongside you.

Frank would’ve tied you to a chair and locked you in a room.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you by going to him for help but you said it yourself. There’s no way I could’ve done that on my own. I needed someone who could join me and handle a fight. Not someone who was just going to tell me what I could and couldn’t do like I was some incompetent child.”

Frank shook his head. “Yeah and i’ll deal with that motherfucker later. He’s an idiot for letting you put yourself in danger like that.”

“He wouldn’t have let anything happen to me.” you shot back.

All he could do was run his hands down his face before turning to look at you. “Do you hear yourself? He ain’t some magic shield that would’ve kept you from getting shot or stabbed. What if there had been more men? What if he had gotten hurt and you were left to try and fight off those scum bags by yourself?”

“I think i handled myself pretty well when he was occupied.”

You knew you were being difficult. You also knew Frank was right. It was a bad idea all around, but at the time it didn’t matter. You just wanted to hurt them.

Sure there was a part of you that felt invincible having someone like Matt with you, but as you got more clarity you realized how lucky you had been to get away with the injuries you had. It really could’ve gone a different way.

Still, you hated the way Frank was making you feel right now. Like a child being scolded by a parent. You know it’s cause he loves you and you scared him, but it doesn’t make it any easier right now.

You figured he’d be a little upset but you also thought he would be proud of you.

The look he was giving you right now showed you anything but that.

“So do you feel better?” he asked, following you as you limped out of the bathroom. “Huh? You get what you wanted out of it?”

“Frank.” you sighed.

“No I wanna know.”

He grabbed your arm and spun you around. He loosened his hold when he saw you grimace from the contact, god you ached like a bitch, but he still held his intense stare.

“Was it worth it?”

You knew he was trying to rile you up. Get some sort of angry response from you. He was pissed now and was ready to let you have it but you weren’t giving in that easily.

“I don’t feel anything right now.”

Which was the truth. Besides the obvious physical pain, you didn’t feel anything about tonight. There was a rush of adrenaline as you fought, as you punched and kicked and dumped the last body into the river.

But now? As the high wore off and reality was sinking in? You just felt empty.

“You think about anyone else before you did what you did? You think about me or your friends?” he nodded toward the dog bowl for Rocco, the pitbull that you shared. “You think about him, how he’d search all around the apartment and wonder why you never came home?”

You turned your back to him and headed toward the bedroom. You just wanted to get out of these uncomfortable clothes and you wanted this conversation to stop.

“Enough, Frank.”

He didn’t listen, he just kept going. God is this how he felt when you nagged him for coming home close to death after a mission gone wrong?

“What about your mom, huh?”

That made you pause.

“You ever stop to think how she’d feel having two dead children?”

Your stomach dropped and the blood in your veins suddenly felt ice cold.

“How dare you.” you asked angrily, spinning around to face him. It took all the strength you had not to slap him.

“You don’t understand sweetheart. I’ve been where you are. I did what you did and it doesn’t stop the pain. It’s there like a gaping wound that won’t fucking close except now you’ve got something else on your conscience.”

“You think I don’t know what’s going through your head right now? The rush is gone and you’re left feeling like ‘what now’? He ain’t gonna call you up. He ain’t gonna walk through that door.”

You move to sit on the bed now, not even bothering to fight the tears as they rolled down your face.

“It doesn’t end there. No, because now you just took 3 men’s lives. Men with families. Men with people who are gonna want to know what happened to them. Men who work for people that don’t take well to being threatened and they’re gonna want to find whoever did this.”

“They ain’t gonna care that you were getting revenge for your brother. It’ll take them all but 2 seconds to put a bullet in your head and drive away like it never fucking happened.”

You hated that Frank was right but you didn’t understand the self righteous talk. Why does he do what he does if this is how he feels about it?

“How is this any different than what you do huh?” you spat angrily. “You think I don’t sit here worried about you when you disappear at night? Come in looking like you’re knocking on death’s door?”

“You’re not me!” he shouted. “I’ve already made the mistakes I made and I deal with it. I never wanted you anywhere near that world because it’s not for people like you. I already accepted my fate a long time ago.”

Frank knew he was being hard on you but he just couldn’t help it. He was so angry that you put yourself in that situation and he was angry that as much as he tried to protect you, there was nothing he could do for you now.

You were still processing everything but because of the kind of person you are, he knows tomorrow you’re gonna wake up feeling the guilt wash over you like an unrelenting wave.

It wasn’t that Frank was only trying to keep you safe physically—that was part of it— but he wanted to protect you from the emotional trauma that comes with taking a life. He’d buried that part of himself a long time ago.

But you? You were too sweet for this life. He was worried that it would break you. He knows better than anyone that it’s not a piece of you that comes back. You’re changed forever.

Your lip trembled and suddenly the sob you had been holding in came rushing out. The tears stung like hell as they fell down your face and this would no doubt make your headache a million times worse, but there was nothing you could do.

“Shit, baby.” Frank cursed, rushing over to you. He pulled you up into his arms, kissing your head and rubbing your neck. “Just let it out, I got you.”

Your whole body shook as the grief consumed you.

“I’m so sorry Frank.” you cried. “I’m sorry. I just wanted them to feel what he felt. What I feel. It’s not fair. It’s not-” you couldn’t even finish the words. You sounded like a blubbering mess.

“I know sweetheart. I know.” he whispered, rubbing his hand up and down your back and lightly rocking you back and forth.

He wished he could take this away from you. It hurt to see you hurt.

“I’m sorry for the harsh things I said. I’m not the best with words.” Frank said, resting his forehead against yours.

You breathed together, slow and steady. You could feel yourself start to calm down, the edge of the panic attack starting to subside. You slumped against Frank’s chest as the energy had been zapped from you.

“I’m sorry too.” you replied, “I wasn’t exactly making it easy on you.”

“No, but that’s my girl.”

He brushed your hair behind your ear and tilted your chin up to look at him. For a moment neither one of you said anything and you couldn’t decipher the look on his face.

“You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes.” he said quietly, “Even still, I don’t think I could survive losing you too.”

It felt like a kick in the stomach to hear that. You really had been selfish. You didn’t think about anyone else in your life that would’ve been affected if something had gone wrong.

It made the tears come again and Frank pulled you into him. He tried to soothe you, telling you it was going to be okay. You were safe, nothing was going to harm you.

After a while he helped you get out of your clothes, changing you into one of his big t shirts. You really wanted to shower but at this point the exhaustion was overwhelming. You could barely stand up straight.

So the two of you laid in bed. You laid on his chest, the top of your head resting in the crook of his neck.

You played with the chain around his neck, twisting and twirling it around your fingers while he absentmindedly ran his hand up and down your back.

“Frank?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Those men, do you really think someone will come after me now? Or my mom? What if they try to hurt her-”

“Nobody’s gonna do a damn thing, sweetheart.”

You rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him with tired eyes, you honestly weren’t sure if they were even open all the way.

“But what if-”

“Don’t do that.” he shushed you. “I promise nobody is gonna touch you or your family. I’ll take care of it.”

You decided to drop it for now. It’s not that you didn’t trust Frank. You know without a doubt he would die before letting anyone hurt you or the people close to you.

But you still couldn’t shake this gnawing feeling that something bad was going to happen. You hated the thought of him having to fight a battle on your behalf. Especially one that wouldn’t have even happened if you had kept your emotions in check.

Still, you decided to believe Frank in the moment. Everything would be okay.

Besides, you never felt safer than you did in his arms.

As the breeze from the outside moved through the curtains and over your back, you finally agreed to let sleep overtake you.

You drifted off to sleep to the sound of his heart beating. You felt a light kiss planted on top of your head along with a string of mumbled words,

“No one’s gonna lay a finger on my girl.”

[operationdeadbolt]

birthday girl cherry here with a wee request about my favorite scot <33 i NEED a little something about birthday sex with soap. preferably nasty, feral fucking 🫣 totally up to you, but i would love it if the piece included face licking, squirting, and elements of a breeding kink :3

love you and your writing!! <333

cw: 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, squirting, dirty talk, spit, face licking, breeding kink, creampie, porn with plot, johnny is very horny (this is a warning in itself)

summary: birthday sex and johnny's a freak

word count: 2.8k

a/n: happy birthday sweet girl <3 love you so much

“I really don’t kno’ why ye dressed up so nicely anyways.”

“Huh?” You nearly choke on the bite of food in your mouth, staring at Johnny incredulously from across the table. “Of course I’d dress up, it’s my birthday dinner.”

“Ah know it is. You look like an angel. And now I’ll have tae tear that pretty little dress off of ye so I can ruin ye.” Johnny sighs, completely nonchalant as your mouth drops open at the bluntness of his words. 

“Johnny. We’re in public.” you hiss, feeling your face heat up as he flashes that classic MacTavish grin at you. You’re very much in public at a very expensive restaurant that he insisted on taking you to, but that doesn’t deter him from running his mouth. In fact, he might even see it as encouraging.

“And?” he counters, beaming brighter when your glare turns more into a warning. “Dinnae act like it’s a mystery on what we’re gonna do tonight.”

“You’re awful, Johnny.” you mutter, downing the last of your water as you lean back in your chair. “Can’t spend one evening without you thinking with the wrong head.”

He hums contently, pleased at the way he riled you up. That was his plan all along. It’s working. “Never did tell me what ye wanted for yer birthday.” He’s quick to switch the subject, knowing it’ll get you even more flustered.

“What I want is for you to have some manners.” The waiter swings by the table to drop off the bill and you thank whoever is watching out for you that Johnny knows enough to keep his mouth closed for just a few moments.

“You wound me, sweetheart.” He mockingly clutches his chest, chuckling when you kick him under the table. “Not my fault that looking at ye makes me think such dirty thoughts all the time.” 

He tilts his head, clearly weighing the consequences of whatever he’s going to say next.

“It’s also not my fault you look so gorgeous I cannae help but imagine all the ways I’m gonna fuck ye.”

You swallow roughly as he tosses a few bills onto the table, quickly standing up to wrap his arm around your shoulders and direct you out of the restaurant.

He leans in while you make the walk to his car, nipping at the shell of your ear and making you gasp. “And if you keep looking like that, I’ll simply have to take ye right in the backseat, bonnie.”

You don’t even make it past the living room. You’re lucky you make it past the front door.

Johnny unceremoniously shoves you onto the couch the second both of you step inside your house, hiking your dress over your stomach and gripping the delicate lace of your panties to fully tear it off of you.

“Och, dinnae act like ye aren’t aware I’ve already bought a couple new pairs for ye.” he scoffs when he’s met with your unimpressed glare. “Besides, I think ye look better this way. Don’t need anything covering up what’s mine.”

Any argument you have against that dies the second he grabs onto your thighs, the rough calluses of his fingers digging into your soft skin as he lifts one leg over his shoulder to bury his head right into your pussy. 

“Yer lucky it’s yer birthday,” he huffs, nose bumping against your clit as he practically drools in between your thighs, his saliva mixing with the slickness you can feel is already coating your cunt. “The way you looked back there, if only ye could’ve seen how hard I was. Wanted tae, fuck, wanted tae pull you right into that restroom, bend you over the sink and fuck ye stupid. Only thing stopping me was wanting to be polite on yer special day.”

“You’re an absolute freak, y’know that Johnny?” you laugh breathlessly before it dissolves into a moan, your hand threading through his mohawk as he presses his lips against your clit and latches on, a few simple sucks making your hips jerk involuntarily.

“I can be worse. So much worse.” He has been worse. Will definitely continue to be worse too, but he’s feeling generous today. It’s evident through the way he noisily laps at your cunt, acting like a man starved as he uses his thumbs to spread your folds and flatten his tongue against them.

“Good thing we didnae have cake yet,” he groans against your pussy, his tongue quickly collecting all the slick of your arousal before he lowers it to press inside your entrance, curling it a few times before lifting his head again. “Got the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted in yer pussy right here.”

He stares up at you with those delicate baby blue eyes of his, letting out a moan of his own as your fingers in his hair form a fist and you tug him back up to your clit.  “If only ye could see yourself right now. So beautiful when yer getting yer pussy ate.”

You whimper, grinding against his face as he alternates between suckling and nipping at your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you as you feel yourself rapidly approaching the first orgasm of the night.

“You’re close, aye? Can feel you clenching on my fingers, so fuckin’ greedy.” He leans directly over your clit, opening his mouth as a fat load of spit covers over the swollen bud and his thumb rubs against it to make a sticky mess out of your pussy.  “It’s yer goddamn right to be greedy, especially today. I’m gonna need ye tae cum for me, sweet girl, need to kno’ I’m making ye feel good.”

The filth coming out of his mouth coupled with the way his fingers are thrusting inside of you perfectly are what sends you over the edge, crying out sharply as your fluids drench his face, leaving your thighs trembling against his head as he eagerly uses his tongue to clean up all of your cum left on your pussy.

“Gonna make ye do that again. Makes me lose my fuckin’ mind when you squirt on me like that.” he sighs, leaning back as he wipes the slick glistening on his chin and licks his fingers clean. You immediately prop yourself up to reach for his belt, letting out a low whine when he gently moves your hands away.

“Quit yer fretting, you’ll get my cock. Just not here. Need tae fuck ye proper, cannae do it on a couch. C’mon, love.” Johnny swiftly hooks his arm around your waist to toss you over his shoulder, rolling his eyes and landing a soft smack to your ass when you squirm in his grasp. “Dinnae give me that, I’ll manhandle you any day of the year. Nothing you can do about it.”

You bite back the ‘yes sir’ on the tip of your tongue, not wanting to boost his ego even more as he carries you to your room. “I’m more than capable of walking up some stairs, Johnny.” 

“Won’t be doing any walking once I’m done with ye.” he retorts, kicking open the bedroom door and dropping you onto the bed. “Won’t be doing much of anything if I can help it. If I haven’t fucked ye till yer legs are shaking and yer heads empty then I didnae do my job correctly.”

“Is that a promise?” you ask softly as Johnny moves to unzip your dress, your hands working in tandem to unbutton his shirt, the collar of which is now completely soaked with your juices. 

“It’s a given,” is his short response as he tugs your dress off of you, tossing it to the floor as you finally lose your patience and rip the rest of his buttons open. You let him shrug his shirt off to join your dress on the floor before staring down at the bulge evident in his dress pants.

“Christ, baby,” you mumble, fingers moving swiftly to undo his belt and shove his pants down to his thighs. There’s already a wet patch against his boxers, and you appreciate it as long as you can before you’re pushing them down as well to watch his erection spring up against his stomach. 

His dick is mouthwatering, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. A fat pearl of pre-cum already leaking from his tip, dripping against his abdomen. It must be throbbing, aching at being neglected for so long. 

“I did all that?” you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around the length of his cock to pump up and down slowly. “Just from eating me out?”

“Fuckin’ hell, you do this just from seeing you.” he inhales briskly, staring down at you jerking him off before he softly directs your hand away. “Cannae lie, eating that sweet pussy of yours definitely helped me too.”

He fully tugs down his pants and boxers, kicking them off towards the pile of clothes as he crawls up towards you. 

His mouth is on yours immediately, his middle and ring fingers finding their way back to your pussy and quickly sinking into you. Johnny uses his other hand to guide your head back onto your pillow, allowing his body weight to press you into the mattress as you moan against his mouth. He kisses you sloppily as his lips slot between yours to push his tongue into your mouth and swirl it over yours.

“So pretty, so fuckin’ pretty, baby. My pretty girl.” he croons, his lips trailing down to your neck, practically panting as his tongue laps at your pulse point. “Ye drive me crazy. Every time I fuck ye I’m thinking about when I get to make you cum again. Yer always on my mind, I swear tae you.”

His words being both simultaneously dirty and praising make your head spin, and at first it barely registers that his mouth is moving from your neck.  “Johnny, fuck…” you groan, nose scrunching as he drags his tongue across your cheek and leaves a trail of spit in it’s path. “You’re no better than a dog.”

“Can bark if ye want.” he grunts in response, not giving you any warning before spitting against your lips and smearing it around with the tip of his tongue. “Sorry, baby, need my mouth on you. Look so fuckin’ good under me.”

You’d let him do anything to you if he keeps fucking you like this, even if it’s just his fingers for now, and you have to admit that his tongue feels as good against your face as it does against your pussy. His hand that isn’t currently filling out your cunt moves to your shoulder, pinning you down as he licks all over your face, making your skin coated with his saliva.

Johnny pumps his fingers inside you a few more times, the squelching audible before he slowly pulls them out of you. You whimper at the sudden emptiness before throwing your head back against the pillow at the feeling of his cock grinding against your folds, the sensation making your pussy flutter around nothing. 

“Please… please, Johnny.” you cry out, rocking your hips back and forth desperately in an attempt to get any friction possible.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he murmurs as he grips his cock, tapping the head against your clit and slathering your slick all over it. “Birthday girl still has to use her words.” 

“Please fuck me already.” you whine, your nails digging into his biceps as you spread your legs wider around his hips. “Need you to fuck me, please.”

“Never get tired of hearing that.” He drags his cock against your pussy a few more times to gather up as much wetness as he can before finally pressing himself into you. You feel your cunt stretching around his girth to accommodate him, his tongue and his fingers having prepped you well but never enough for how thick he is.

His thrusts start slow and gentle, but Johnny isn’t a patient man, nor does he feel like holding himself back tonight. He lifts his leg up to reposition himself, before completely pounding his cock into you. It’s almost animalistic the way he loses himself in you, making you cling to him as your thoughts are consumed solely by Johnny and the way he’s making you feel. You breathe heavily, forcing your eyes open as you stare up at him.

Johnny looks as ravished as you feel; mohawk tousled from your fingers running through it and damp from sweat, his pupils blown out you almost can’t see the blue behind them. The thick, rough pads of his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he fucks you without hesitation, pushing himself as deep as he’s able to he watches the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in.

You feel him everywhere, his cock spearing you open while one of his hands moves to grope your breast, rolling your nipple between the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and he uses the opportunity to spit directly into your mouth, feeling it coat your tongue as you make eye contact while you swallow.

That must’ve set something off in him, because you’re instantly rewarded with him fucking you so perfectly it makes you see stars. “Just like that, Johnny! Right there, right-”

He cuts you off as he grips your hips harder to angle himself deeper, the head of his cock hitting the spongy spot inside of you perfectly. “Yeah, yeah, I kno’. Right there. Acting like I don’t kno’ yer pussy inside an’ out, like I haven’t made this pretty pussy my fuckin’ home.”

He leans down, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think ye forgot I practically molded yer cunt to my liking, bonnie.” he whispers, his hips smacking against your ass with another thrust as if to prove his point. “Believe me, pretty girl, there’s nothing about you I haven’t memorized yet. And that includes all the ways I get tae make ye cum.” 

His hand moves from your breast to your stomach, gently kneading your skin as he continues to pump into you. “Wanna cum inside ye. Figured out what tae get you as yer gift.” He meets your eyes as he rubs soft circles against your stomach, smirking as he feels you clench down on him. “Yeah? Wanna have my baby? I’ll make you a mama, don’t even have tae ask.”

You don’t have it in you to reply, your mind feeling fuzzy as you feel the pressure build up inside you again. “Johnny, I’m so close, so so close, I can’t…” you pant, your senses nearly overwhelmed from all the pleasure Johnny’s making you feel.

“I kno’, love. It’s a lot, aye? S’okay, you can be good for me and cum.” he coos, his hand going from your stomach to above your pussy, his thumbing working roughly against your clit.

You arch your back against the mattress with a mewl, his cock and his thumb on your clit working together to send you over the edge. He holds you steady as you squirt for the second time, your juices soaking over the dark curls trailing up his stomach and at the base of his cock. 

Johnny fucks you through your orgasm, his own following shortly behind yours. He dips his head to the crook of your neck, sighing out your name as his hips stutter and he finishes inside you, hot ropes of semen coating your pussy as his thrusts slowly slow down. He keeps his cock where it is, allowing his cum to be plugged up in your cunt.

He collapses on top of you, panting and trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. He wraps his arms around your waist, cuddling you tightly as he looks down at you with love in his eyes.

“So good to me. Happy birthday, my girl.” Johnny murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he cradles you against him, your chests rising and falling in unison. “Love you so much. You have a good time tonight?”

“I love you too.” you smile warmly, catching your breath as your lips meet his. “I’m having a great time, Johnny, all thanks to you.” You try to lift yourself up from under him, before feeling his grip against you tighten ever so slightly.

“Where do ye think yer going, bonnie?”

“Don’t you need to take a breather?” you ask quietly, your confusion evident as he shakes his head and guides you back down against the mattress.

“Dinnae think for a second that I’m done with you.” he grunts, pulling his cock out just enough for you to feel his cum run down your thighs and onto the bed sheets before he thrusts into you again.  “I’ll make this a birthday to remember.”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Moment Of Everything

Summary: Peter Parker x Fe!Reader -> You and Peter have never gotten along, but can two nights in Florence change things for good?

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, angst. Mentions of blood and wounds. I was watching The Proposal last night and got inspired. Enemies to Lovers. See this for whichever Spider-Man you wish. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

You knew things had to change eventually. 

Yourself and Peter couldn’t go your whole lives hating one another. 

You just didn’t expect it to change quite so much. 

It had all started one night when you were on a mission with each other. 

Two days in Florence, Italy. You were both sent to monitor a suspect. And, like usual, Peter was off with you. He didn’t seem too happy about having to share a bed at the hotel. And, even though he didn’t particularly like talking to you, he would still do it. Only, that night, he didn’t. 

When he didn’t have to talk to you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at you. 

So, the night before you were expected to fly back home, you called him out on it. 

He didn’t listen to you. He simply walked away from you. He followed the guy and you had to go with his plan. Whatever his plan was, you had to guess. 

Only, the suspect got away. 

“We’ll find him again.”

Peter just grunted. 

“Peter.”

Nothing. 

“Peter!”

Again, nothing.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Peter!” He finally slowed down and looked at you. “What the hell is your fucking problem?! I get you don’t like me, but we’re meant to be together in this!”

“We are together in this.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Bull-shit. You have done nothing but ignore me this entire trip. If you have a problem with me, you can just say it. Where are you going now? Or am I not allowed to know that either.”

“Back to the hotel. Not like you’d tell me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You tried running to catch up with him. 

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead. Tell me.”

Soon enough you both made it back to the hotel and inside the room before the conversation continued. 

“Tell me, Peter. I can take it.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You don’t know me-”

“You’re right! I don’t!” Peter turned around and looked at you, forcing you to stop in your tracks. 

“I don’t know you! I don’t know anything about you! Because you don’t share anything.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to keep my life a little private.”

“A little?!” Peter raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “A little private is not telling your co-workers where you're going when you say you’re going on holiday. A little private is not showing them a thousand pictures of your new puppy. Your life is anything but a little private.”

Clearly, he had more to say so you waited. And you didn’t have to wait long. 

Sighing, Peter rubbed his forehead for a moment before looking back at you. 

“I have known you for almost ten years and you have told me less than three things about yourself. And yet, an hour before we leave to come here, Hank from the Biology lab does…what? Flirts with you for five minutes, tells you his coffee order and you’re practically marrying the guy!”

“Peter, that’s none- Is this what has been bothering you since we left? This?! Just because I decided to talk to a guy and tell him about my day…why does it bother you so much that I don’t talk about myself?”

“Because I am meant to be your teammate. You have known me for almost ten years and never once have I hid anything from you. We are meant to trust one another. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me or if I didn’t like you, what matters is that you trust me, and that I trust you. This partnership is meant to go both ways.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just kept looking at Peter. It looked like the world had been lifted off his shoulders whilst he also started beating himself up over what he just said. His chest was heaving and for a moment, you thought he was gonna walk towards you but instead, he took a step back. 

“I’m going for a shower.”

When the door closed behind him, it took you a moment to gather yourself. 

You couldn’t deny that he had a point. Maybe you hadn’t told him as much as you could have done, especially for being teammates for almost a full decade. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have his faults in it, too. 

Maybe instead of ignoring you and only talking to you when he needed to, you might have warmed to him more rather than seen him as a stand-offish person who you would trust to save your life, but wouldn’t trust to put it on the edge first. 

After twenty minutes, Peter emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed, clothed and ready for bed. He put away his dirty clothes and put his wash bag back in his bag before climbing under the covers that lay at the bottom of the bed. 

He hadn’t said anything when you both arrived at the hotel late at night. Just took some sheets out of the cupboard and put them on the floor. When you entered the room, you said he was being ridiculous.

He just said the bed was too soft for him and that he wouldn’t sleep. 

After an hour of back and forth over you telling him just to get into the bed, since it was big enough for a family of five, never mind two, he still decided to stay on the floor. 

As you lay in bed, listening to the distant noises of the city, you tossed and turned before settling on your back. But you still couldn’t sleep. 

Then you heard Peter. 

He was tossing and turning, too. 

Eventually, you heard him sigh in annoyance of sleep not taking over him. 

So, wrestling with your own mind, you spoke up. 

“I like Greek Mythology.”

A few seconds passed and then; “What?”

You faltered for a moment before speaking up again. 

“I-I like Greek Mythology. I always have.” you said before explaining, taking your time. “When I was five, my grandmother gave me some of her old books. In the pile was a kids illustrated version of Greek Gods and Goddesses. I was obsessed. And I mean, obsessed.” 

You laughed a little as you explained your obsession with Greek Mythology to him. Meanwhile, from the floor and out of sight from you, he smiled. He couldn’t even think of when he’d heard a smile in your voice. Never mind a laugh. 

It was once of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. 

“For three halloween’s in a row, I went as a different Goddess.”

You fell silent for a moment in the memory before you started to speak again. 

“I hate coffee. I try it once every year and it’s always the same. Absolutely disgusting.” you chuckled a little. “I spent every summer away from home at Camp where I ran a book club. I watch Rom-Coms when I’m sad because they make me feel better. My favourite flowers are blue tulips. I don’t watch thrillers because they remind me too much of work. And, I haven’t told anyone this much…ever.”

Only as you finished did you realise how much you had told him. And you felt a pang of anxiety in the pit of your stomach as Peter remained silent. 

“Are you still there?”

Peter swallowed thickly and nodded his head, despite the fact you couldn’t see him. “Y-yeah. I’m here. Just…processing.”

“Okay.”

That conversation had been just over eight months before you got a knock at your apartment window one evening. 

You had taken a couple weeks off work since you hadn’t taken any vacation days…ever. Barton had practically banned you from the building for two weeks. 

The rain had been pouring over the city and, with all your work finished, you had rushed out and got some supplies before sitting in front of your TV, watching one of the many rom-coms your DVD collection provided before pulling a few books from your shelves and reading through them. 

At some point, you had fallen asleep, still fully dressed, under your blankets, listening to the quiet silence of your apartment as the rain hit the windows outside. 

Only, rather than continuing to sleep throughout the night, you heard a continuous tapping. 

So, leaning up with tired eyes, you looked around. The loose braid you had stuck your hair in had fallen out, your bobble being lost between the cushions somewhere.

The apartment was shrouded in darkness, save for the street lights outside still lighting small sections of your apartment.

Along came more tapping until finally you turned towards the sash window that lay by the fire escape. 

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw him through tired eyes. 

Making your way over, you pushed the window open and Peter made his way inside. 

“Sorry for waking you.”

You just grumbled and closed the window to stop the rain from flying in, though it didn’t stop the small puddle made by Peter who was practically soaked to the bone from the rain. 

“Ah, so this is who I lost you to.” Peter said with a slight smirk as he spotted one of your Mythology books. 

“Barton said I was banished from HQ until my vacation days were finished. What are you doing here at this time of night? What even is the time?”

“I didn’t know where to go, and you’re the only one who I trust to do the job well.”

“What job?”

Finally looking at Peter, you saw it. 

His body, and his clothes, were splattered with blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was his and how much of it could be somebody else's. 

“You didn’t kill anyone did you?”

“No.” Peter answered. “They’re alright, just at the police station getting booked.”

You sighed as you took in even more of his wounds. “Alright. Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes. Give me your jacket.”

Peter removed it and you took it from him, including his grey hoodie. 

“Bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the right.”

Peter nodded and walked down whilst you headed into the kitchen and shoved his jackets into the washing machine and pressed start. Then, from the top cupboard, you pulled down your first-aid kit that contained everything from princess plasters, from when you had been looking after your neighbour's kid for two days, to a stitching kit.

Twenty minutes later, you had a basin full of warm, blood stained water, a once-clean face cloth covered in stains of blood and a grown Avenger sat on the edge of your bathtub, wincing every now and again and you cleaned him up. 

“Remind me again why you came to me?”

You turned Peter’s head to face over your right shoulder as you cleaned a graze and cut just above his eyebrow. 

“Because I trust you. And I didn’t feel like getting another lecture from Laura.”

“Ah,” you nodded and Peter laughed a little. 

Then he hissed. 

“Sorry, I'm almost finished with this one.”

“It’s okay.” Peter flicked his gaze to you a couple of times. “T-thank you for doing this.”

“What else would I have done? Kicked you back out of the window?”

“You could have done it. I did wake you up. Clearly I didn't learn my lesson from the first time.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did nearly beat you up.”

What Peter meant was just over two months ago. You had both become friends of sorts. But, you had fallen asleep at your lab desk one night and Peter came in to wake you up and you nearly cursed him out so much that you even had him convinced he was an intruder trying to break into your home. 

“But, if you hadn’t come to me, I probably would have cursed you out when I found out, anyway.”

“Found out?”

“You can’t hide anything from me, Peter. I know everything,” you joked. 

“But do you?”

Peter’s question slipped from his tongue before he could stop himself, but you didn’t know what to do. So, your eyes turned from his and you tried your best to remain calm until you saw a large spot of blood coming through his black t-shirt. 

You tried your best to get to the wound that was beneath it without him removing his shirt, but you both knew it was no use. 

So, awkwardly asking him, he stood and you looked to him only to find him looking back. 

Slowly, he removed his shirt, trying his best not to stain the rest of his body from the blood you had just cleaned away and for a moment, you were met with his body in front of you. 

Most of the blood was coming from that one wound but the top of his arms now showed a little bruising, as well as his torso, though it was more healed than you thought it would have been. 

Finding yourself staring for a little too long, you forced your gaze back to his face where he’d removed the shirt from over his head and lowered himself back down onto the edge of the tub, opening up his legs for you to stand between them once more. 

Though, it was in that moment that you realised how close you had been standing to him this entire time. 

“Th-This might sting a little.”

Peter nodded and you watched as he clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the grunt that tried to escape from him as you cleaned out the wound. 

“You might need some stitches.” you mentioned. “I can do them here, though they might not be Laura standard.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

You nodded and tried your best to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you as you looked for your stitching kit and began working. 

In your peripheral vision, you could see some of his bruises already starting to heal, though some might take more than a couple hours.

Even with his adapted DNA. 

“If you want, you can stay here for the night. I have a spare set of pyjamas if you need them.”

“You sure they’ll be my size?”

You laughed a little. “My, uh, my neighbour gave them to me. She bought a set for her husband but when they came they were too big for him. She told me to keep them in case I ever had someone…stay the night. They might be too big for you, too but they have a drawstring so…”

“Okay.”

You looked at him for a split second and then looked back to his wound with a small nod. 

Soon enough you finished and stepped back to grab the face cloth before dipping it into a fresh basin of warm water to clean off the rest of his wounds that would heal soon enough. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

As you looked at Peter when he stood, there was a moment of…everything. 

Neither of you were moving, yet his eyes and your own spoke a thousand unspoken words between their gazes. 

Without thinking, Peter lifted his hand to meet your own, allowing you to place the cloth down before he pulled you a little closer. 

Your name left his lips in a small whisper, a plea, a wish of permission.

You felt yourself stand a little taller as his other hand came to your face, brushing the loose hair from your face, behind your ear. 

His eyes continued to flick from your eyes to your lips, as yours did the same with him. 

There was time for you to stop. For you to say no. And if you did, he would have stepped away and, most likely, would have apologised and left. 

But you didn’t want that. 

Each tantalising moment that passed, you wished for time to hurry up. For his lips to finally meet yours. 

And once they did, there was no turning back. 

At first it was soft, until you both became hungry for more. 

Leaning in, your hands came to his neck to pull him closer to you. 

Eventually, the kiss broke apart for a moment, your heads resting together, your eyes partly closed. 

“Was that-”

“Just shut up and kiss me again.”

Peter chuckled a little before feeling your lips connect to his, allowing his hands to pull your body flush against his.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

If When Jamie is named England’s captain a few years from now and he’s asked about inspirational figures and captain role models, he will not stop singing Isaac’s praises. Just, the way Isaac runs a tight ship and won’t tolerate any nonsense but always has their backs and makes sure there’s a lot of fun, too, silly stuff that keeps the team close and happy and mutually supportive; keeps them feeling like family, almost. It’s Ted’s heritage, the seeds Ted planted, but Isaac’s nurtured and sustained them, tended to the garden and kept it in bloom, and added some vibrant saplings of his own.

Jamie probably names a couple of other people too, whoever was in charge when he played for Man City, someone from his academy days or England’s under-21s, people like that.

He doesn’t mention Roy. And no one asks about it, and no one thinks anything of it—

—except for Roy, who watches the interview with Keeley curled up against his side on their couch and who notices the omission with a wild jumble of hurt and wounded pride and shame and jealousy (all mixed up with the shocking, burning pride he feels for Jamie, England’s captain, fucking hell).

Because Roy knows he wasn’t a great captain for Richmond, yeah, and was a horrible captain for Jamie (though to be fair, Jamie was a horrible person to captain, and Isaac isn’t likely to have been able to handle him at full-on prick either, only Roy’s not fantastic at being fair to himself, so), but he’s still Roy fucking Kent, the best on any team he’s ever been on and Jamie’s fucking childhood idol and his fucking everything now, so to have the little prick not even mention him…

He sulks. He tries not to, because he knows it’s silly and it’s Jamie’s big day, isn’t it, and Roy’s not going to ruin it by having A Feeling, but the feeling(s) persist and he walks through the afternoon with his scowl several shades darker than normally.

“What’s the matter, babe?” Keeley asks, and Roy’s long since given up trying to bullshit her so he spills. Keeley nods and listens and gives him a hug and a kiss and tells him that yeah, you’re gonna need to let that go or actually talk to Jamie about it, because she has long since taken a stand on not sorting their shit out for them.

And she has a thing with Rebecca that afternoon (only it’s the first Roy’s ever heard of it, so he can’t help but wonder if she had a thing with Rebecca prior to Roy’s confession), so when Jamie gets home, bouncing through the door like a puppy on speed, it’s just Roy there to greet him and tell him how amazing he is and yes, of course Roy watched the announcement, your hair looked fucking fine, yes, Keeley saw it too, no, don’t worry, she’s just out for coffee, she’ll be back for dinner and let you know how very impressed she is, and it’d be easy to just let it lie, put the lingering regret away and bask in Jamie’s joy, but they’d said they’d try not do that anymore, not cover stuff up when there’s the chance they might fester, so when Jamie furrows his brow and cocks his head to the side and asks if he’s okay, Roy takes a deep breath:

“It fucking hurt my feeling when you didn’t mention me, when they asked about captains that have inspired you,” he says, and then adds before Jamie can reply, “I know why you didn’t and that’s… that’s fucking fair, innit, but. It also made me wish that I’d been. Better. A better captain. For you.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says after a long, silent moment. He’s wearing that slightly blank look he adopts whenever someone’s caught him by surprise and he’s trying to figure out how to react. “Um. Sometimes I wish I’d been less of a prick, too, you know.”

Roy nods. He knows. And it’s not absolution, and it neither erases or rewrites any of their past mistakes, but it eases the ache in Roy’s chest all the same.

“We’re better now,” he offers, to Jamie, to himself.

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees with a small sigh. He grabs hold of Roy’s hand, tugging him along as he sits down on the couch, and then he curls up against Roy’s side, same as Keeley did just hours ago. “You’re a great fucking coach, though” he tells Roy seriously. “Me favourite, swear down.”

Roy snorts a laugh as he puts an arm around Jamie. “Better fucking be, considering how many blowjobs I’ve given you this week alone.”

“Mm, fucking mint, those,” Jamie agrees thoughtfully, then jabs a finger in Roy’s side. “Oi, this is the part where you tell me I’m your favourite player.”

And oh. That’s perfect, innit. “You’re not my favourite player,” Roy says, carefully not looking at Jamie.

The noise Jamie makes are equal parts disbelieving and outraged. “Um, excuse me, mate?”

“You’re not,” Roy insists, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he innocently adds, “It’s probably Isaac.”

And Jamie huffs a laugh against his neck. And Jamie says you’re an arsehole. And Jamie says you’re me favourite arsehole, though.

You’re me favourite everything, man.

And Roy holds him tight and breathes him in and, for the moment, believes him.

[sonicstalker123]

Korekiyo x Reader who commits s***ide because of Korekiyo’s death

CW: sewerslide, gore, knives, hints of sh, fainting, screaming in anger and sadness, mentions of bugs

Content: EXTREME angst

(This is my first and only time I’ll write one of these as it’s a sensitive topic for not just me, but others as well.)

She/her pronouns used.

It was almost time for the class trial. Gonta was brutally murdered in the library. His mouth was taped shut and he was hanged upside down with several stab wounds. There was a LOT of blood on the floor. Once Kaito, Y/N and Shuichi find his body, Y/N gets pale and passes out. Fortunately Korekiyo was nearby and catches Y/N. “I have you now, Y/N, you’re safe with me.” He sits on the ground with Y/N in his arms. One arm hugging her and the other arm on her head.

“Kiyo? Is that Y/N?? Is she okay??” Keebo asks, concerned. “I’m sure she will be okay soon. It is concerning that she is… very pale, though.”

Keebo thinks to himself. “Kiyo, please let go of her for just a moment, I’d like to scan her for just one moment. It’s a new upgrade that Miu gave me and I want to test it out!” Korekiyo nods and gently moves her a few inches to the left.

Kiyo watches with curious eyes. He hears a humming noise coming from Keebo’s eyes?? He quite literally scans her. “The scan is complete! Vitals and everything else seems normal. It seems like she just fainted at the sight of blood. Do you know if that is normal for her?”

“This is a first for me. She has seen blood before and hasn’t fainted.” Kiyo casually responds. “Where…. Have you both seen blood..?” Keebo asks, concerned and also disturbed. “We watch horror movies sometimes. They get pretty gorey.” Kiyo responds. “WELL. I’m out, I must resume the investigation.” Keebo responds, disturbed by how casual Kiyo is with his responses. Korekiyo picks up Y/N and holds her close to him, with her head on his chest.

About ten minutes pass and Y/N wakes up, startling Kiyo. She looks up at him, a little dazed. “Dearest, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” Y/N soon realizes that her head is on her boyfriend’s chest, causing her to blush. Her blush causes Kiyo to blush slightly. “I-I was just protecting you!” Korekiyo responds, sounding embarrassed. “From… what?” Y/N asks, turning her head slightly and she almost sees Gonta’s lifeless body. “Darling, Gonta… passed away. Somebody ended his life… and his killer is somewhere in this very academy.” “W-What?! We were just talking about bugs and he was showing me a bunch of cute caterpillars JUST yesterday!” Y/N starts to sob, burying her head in Kiyo’s chest.

“D-Darling… cry as much as you need to. I’m here for you.” He pats her head and gently hugs her. Himiko turns around and sees Y/N crying and she starts to just BAWL. “We’re… gonna find your k-killer and bring them to j-justice..!”

Y/N eventually calms down and shakily sighs. “I… I think it’s almost t-time for the class trial. We will find who did this to you, Gonta! I promise!”

The TV monitor thing turns on. “Yup, she’s right! It’s finally time for the long anticipated class trial!” Monokuma exclaims.

Everybody makes their way to the Shrine of Judgement. “Kiyo… I was wondering if I could go with you to your lab after all of this is finished?”

That question stabbed Korekiyo like a knife, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do that. “Of course, my rose. Anything for you.” He responds.

Time for the class trial.

Everybody debates for a what felt like forever. Y/N is putting the pieces together and can’t believe it. “The killer is you, Korekiyo Shinguji, the Ultimate Anthropologist!” Shuichi yells and Y/N gasps and falls to her knees. “Bahaha! Your vote was correct, Shuichi! Though Y/N? You did an oopsie and you’re risking everybody else’s lives by voting for yourself! DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN. YOU’LL GET PUNISHED.” Monokuma growls.

Y/N walks up to Korekiyo. Everybody turns their head to watch Kiyo and Y/N talk. “But… why? Why would you do that?! Why did you kill Gonta?!” Y/N asks, in between her cries. “He was a threat! Last week, he almost broke your spine giving you a tight hug! He literally almost squeezed the life out of you, Y/N! I know he was worried and said “Gonta so sorry”, and all that SHIT, but he almost KILLED you!”

“Aaaaand that’s the tea.” Kokichi says, snickering to himself.

“I also wanted him to feel the same pain you felt. I taped his mouth shut so nobody could hear him.” Korekiyo responds, almost proud of himself.

“Yeah, I couldn’t move for days and Gonta watched over me and took care of me as his way of apologizing but you didn’t have to resort to MURDER! Gonta was innocent!” Y/N yells.

“Oooh, she’s big mad now.” Kokichi says.

“Kokichi, shhh. I’m invested in this tea too, so I wanna listen.” Tsumugi responds.

Korekiyo sighs and hands Y/N his mask and his hat and wipes her tears.

“ITS PUNISHMENT TIIIIIME!” Monokuma exclaims. “No…. NOOOO!” Y/N exclaims. “TAKE ME INSTEAD OF HIM!” Korekiyo looks at Y/N and sighs sadly. “My dearest rose, I did the crime, so I must pay… with my life. I don’t want to leave you, i-in fact, it pains me greatly to leave you, but this must happen. I love you and I will miss you. I’ll still be with you, in your heart. Every time you look at my mask and my hat, that’s me.” He gives her one final kiss, leaving a little kiss mark on her cheek from his lipstick.

Y/N starts bawling.

As Korekiyo gets his punishment, Y/N falls to her knees and starts bawling hysterically. When he gets dropped into the boiling hot pot, she yells so loud that she loses her voice. Korekiyo can faintly hear her screams and it shatters his heart, causing him to feel despair.

The pot gets even hotter, finally causing him to literally melt, turning him into a ghost. His sister is gone good fucking riddance, she will not be missed… She’s burning in hell

Korekiyo floats to a building’s roof and sits on it, sighing sadly. “I hope to see you again, my beautiful rose. My dearest.”

After the trial, she falls asleep from crying. Tenko picks up her up and carries her to her dorm room. She puts his hat and mask on her nightstand. A few weeks pass. Y/N just looks empty. Eyes look empty. She hasn’t spoken to anybody after the trial.

At the cafeteria, Tenko looks concerned. “I’m worried about Y/N. I haven’t seen her in days.” Right as she said that, Y/N was seen, but only for a second. She looks pale, literally as if she has no life in her. “Y/N! There you are! Are you okay???” Tenko asks. No response. Y/N just walks outside and sits at the table outside. Ryoma sighs and catches up with her. “Hey, Y/N. Are you alright? We haven’t seen you in days.” Y/N looks up at the sky.

“No response, huh? Listen… I know all too well what it feels like to lose somebody. I had somebody important to me, too. It took a long time to heal from those wounds. So we’re in the same boat, haha. Don’t tell anybody I said this, but I cry every now and then when I think about her.” Y/N starts to cry once more, but still doesn’t say anything. Ryoma turns his head to see her crying. “Hey now, it-it’s alright. Gosh, I’ve never been good at this sort of thing.”

Y/N fidgets with her hands. “This….. this was our favorite place. We would sit here for hours and I would be so happy to just listen to him tell me his stories… Now… I can’t do that anymore.” “Oh, she speaks once more. Haven’t heard your voice in quite some time. If you need to talk to me, I’m here.” Ryoma jumps off the side of the table and walks away.

Y/N makes her way to Kiyo’s lab and just lays on the floor. “I miss you like crazy. It’s only been a few weeks but… it feels like just yesterday that we were in here on a date, with K-Kiyo infodumping teaching me about the Dog God and everything else imaginable. It hurts. It hurts knowing that I… can’t do that anymore. I wish I could feel your embrace just one more time….” Y/N gets up, goes to her dorm room and grabs a pillow, blanket and his mask. She locks the door and goes to sleep. For three days.

When Y/N wakes up, she grabs Kiyo’s mask, sneaks into Tsumugi’s lab and grabs her scissors, grabs her new hat and makes her way back to Kiyo’s lab. “Forgive me for this, Korekiyo. But always said that humanity was beautiful…” some time passes and looks down at her wrist, seeing that she cut herself with the scissors that she stole. She then starts wearing long sleeve t-shirts.

“I just saw Y/N, only for a moment. It seems that she looks more upset. We are all upset, but she’s more upset than all of us combined.” Keebo states, sighing sadly. Oh if only he knew.

Y/N makes her way to the kitchen and grabs a knife. She walks back to Kiyo’s lab and places the knife next to her. She scrolls through old selfies she’s taken with him… she hesitates for a moment but gets a pen and paper and decides to write her final words. “I will see… you soon, my love.”

‘This is goodbye, isn’t it? Kiyo made me feel special. He made me feel loved. He really made me feel wonderful. Appreciated. I’ll never forget the memories we made. I couldn’t bare the thought of being away from him for much longer, it was just tearing me up inside. Take this hat and mask and put it on my bed. As a reminder that we will be with one another forever. See you guys in another life. I thought you all were amazing friends.’

She sends Kaito a text. ‘Goodbye.’ SEND.

“Guys, Y/N just sent me a text a text saying “goodbye��. What does that mean?” Shuichi gasps. “She’s been by herself for days and we haven’t seen her. Could she be in Kiyo’s lab? That’s where I think she could be. I’m gonna go investigate. Kaito, do you want to come with me?” “Of course! You too, Maki Roll! We’re sidekicks! Off to Kiyo’s lab!”

The three run to Kiyo’s lab, with everybody anxious. They tried to open the door, but it is locked. Kaito bangs on the door. “Y/N! ARE YOU IN THERE?? ARE YOU OKAY?!” “Hold on, I got this.” Maki says and kicks the door open. “Being the Ultimate Assassin means that you have to be strong in all depa-“ Maki turns her head to see a lifeless Y/N, bleeding out with a cut throat and a knife in hand, blood everywhere holding Y/N’s note. “She really did commit…”

*DING DONG BING BONG*

“A body has been discovered!!”

(Gosh, this was rough to write. Should I do a “part 2” to this, where Kiyo and his gf are reunited?)

EDIT: made a part 2! https://www.tumblr.com/sonicstalker123/747513052154478592/korekiyo-x-reader-who-commits-side-because-of

[yumomia]

hi i've decided im gonna pioneer this ship and also this fandom.

so here's my mia and me spotify playlist

here's my pinterest board

here's my ao3 account

this ship has a couple different names. miyumo, yumomia, and my personal favorite: the sunrise trio!!

enjoy my rambling :D

(i'm updating this post whenever i get a miyumo hugging picture)

fics i write! i'll try to keep this updated!!

the rewrite:

escape (a mia and me series)

Mia has magic. She’s not sure why, or where it came from. Like every high-schooler, she’s a little bit preoccupied with figuring out her crushes first. Unfortunately, with the attacks on the mystical island of Centopia, she might not have time to focus on that. Mia has to figure out how to use her magic, and fast.

the non-rewrites:

there will come a soldier by oriocookie

A Yuko character study.

love should never be kept a secret by oriocookie

Mia Marconi, a.k.a. Spider-Girl, is Centopia City's fearless protector. She's strong, smart, kind, and brave, putting her life on the line daily to protect her family and her city. And Mo and Yuko, her crushes. But that's not important. She's got a whole city to worry about.

hold on tight to this time, this place (cause everything you know will be erased) by oriocookie

There's someone missing. Mo and Yuko know it, they can feel it when they turn to talk to someone and they're not there, when they try to think back on the specifics of their adventures and are met with a gap in their memories. They just don't know who.

i’ll love every version of you by oriocookie

Since she met them, Mia’s always been drawn to Mo and Yuko. She never could have imagined why. We will be together again. I promise.

absolutely smitten by oriocookie

Mia never, ever expected to see her celebrity crushes in person. And she never, ever, ever expected them to like her back!

but that’s just a theory! by oriocookie

Mia is, frankly, a weird person. She’s cagey about her past and while Mo and Yuko love her, they get curious sometimes! Can’t sue them for it!

enchanted by oriocookie

"You don’t get it!” Mia yelled, holding her arms close to her chest. On one wrist, her treasured bracelet. On the other, the names of her soulmates. Mo Kiev and Yuko Lavigne. “Mia, I do! But you can’t fall in love with the characters from your book!” Paula said. “I know they share the same names with your soulmates. But you said they don’t have names on their wrist, right?” Mia refused to give her the satisfaction of being right. But no, no one in Centopia had a soulmate. Not even her elven self had the names from the real world inked into her arm. “All we’re saying, Mia,” Vincent put in, “is that you should focus on the real world. You could have real soulmates out there.” “I can’t believe this.” Mia fumed. “I’m leaving.” 

strongest shape by oriocookie

Mo wound an arm around each of them, thankful for the low light so Yuko couldn’t see the blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m glad Mia’s our friend,” Yuko muttered sleepily from her spot under Mo’s arm. “She’s nice.” “Yes, she is.” Mo agreed. “Pretty, too.” Yuko said softly, and Mo looked down at her in shock. But Yuko’s eyes were closed and her breathing was light, and Mo resigned himself to talking to the both of them about it tomorrow. Mia and Yuko were both amazing, and Mo didn’t want to choose between the two of them. But with Yuko’s half-asleep admission about Mia, there was now a new possibility: Mo could love them both, the same way.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #32: Redmond

Masterlist

content: past starvation

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The truck stop had a store beside it. It was a warm morning, considering they were in the middle of winter. There were still not many people around. He was hungry.

The hunger came on with a violent force and speed, waking him up before the sunshine or Heather ever could. Now that Jackie had access to soup and tea and such luxuries, it seemed that his appetite had returned. His head ached, his limbs ached, his chest ached, and his guts shredded themselves into knots. It was a desire that drowned out all other wants, suffocated all thoughts, as sudden and intrusive as a bullet wound. 

It was a wonder, really, how he survived this long without any proper sustenance. He could believe in gouged eyes, severed limbs, and charred skin, but surviving extreme starvation was a little ridiculous. As an esteemed biochemist once said: was he a fucking plant? That wouldn’t make any sense, either. There was no sunlight in the basement. Those pages of Oliver Twist he gnawed on couldn’t have possibly been enough. But his biology didn’t care for such intricacies. He needed to deal with it immediately, and he would suffer immensely until these demands were met.

“Heather.”

“Yes, Jackie?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d be digging my own grave. I feel like I’m gonna keel over. Or puke.” He put his head against her shoulder. “I’m starving. Can I get—I don’t know, whatever this truck stop sells. I could eat a horse right now.”

“I’ll get you something. Don't be so dramatic.” She unlocked her door. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I can walk. A little.”

“Then you’re coming with me.” Heather cleared her throat. “Listen carefully. If anybody asks, your name is Elijah Smith. You’re my boyfriend, and we’re here on holiday. Don’t talk to anybody unless prompted. Try not to look so… I don’t know, inexplicably exhausted? Try to act natural.”

“Your boyfriend?” He cocked his head to one side, grinning.

“Funny you should mention that. I actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. You could pretend to be my brother, but the problem is that I’m an only child. Any investigator with half their wits could read my files and find out we’re lying. I’m not married, either, and I’ve never been divorced, so you can’t take my hypothetical husband’s name. You could be my friend, obviously, but that would sound suspicious. We will be sleeping in the same room, after all. People think romantic relationships are more important, and I’d rather not elicit any strange looks if we check into a hotel together. Any attention is bad attention. That about covers it, I think. Oh, and I don’t think you could ever pretend to be my dad. No offense, but you barely look twenty.”

"...Oh. Okay."

“By the way, if you’re planning to yell for help, don’t bother. I’ve got a pistol in my bag.” She opened the car door. There were sounds of seagulls—were they near water?—and the distant murmur of wind, as well as the dull roar of trucks above all that. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

He left the car as well, and managed to stand up despite the debilitating sensation in his stomach. The air was rich with the scent of lake scum and dead fish, and quite a bit warmer than the biting breeze he’d felt the night before. There were a few trucks around, and one or two cars. A stray candy wrapper crashed and stumbled across the concrete. The yellow plastic was so vivid to him. Brilliant as a sheaf of gold, catching the sunlight like a newly cut jewel. It was lovely to be outside again.

Heather took his hand, a little too tightly, and they walked into the store. A bell rang above the doorway. It was not very big, but not crowded either. Its stock was similar to a convenience store, except they also sold pastries and coffee. No tea. He hadn’t seen this much food since… well. There were no polite euphemisms for kidnapping. It was hard for Jackie to take his eyes off the strudels and croissants, even as Heather spoke to him.

“I don’t know if they have soup,” she said in a low tone. “Do you think you can eat something else?”

He nodded. “I want a muffin. Can I have a muffin?”

“Alright, I’ll buy a muffin. Go look at some hunting knives or something. Don’t leave the store, though. I’ll come over when I’m done.”

He glanced over to the aisle of hunting knives. “Why do they have so many?”

“Lord knows.” She let go of his hand. 

He was left standing there, feeling rather lost in such a public space. 

He could have screamed. He could have run outside and kept running until his lungs went raw, or until the police found him. But to risk losing Heather’s trust would be suicide—no, a kamikaze, considering how much was at stake for her. And he would never get that muffin. Besides, he did sympathize with her situation. It wasn’t easy being on the run. He didn’t have to make things difficult for her. 

Either way, the cost of failure was too high. It was hard to forget the scars along his chest, or the burns on his skin. Escape was a pipe dream best left to rot.

The hunting knives were not particularly interesting, but they were something new, and he was always craving something new lately. They were small, curved on the edges. Used for skinning animals, he assumed. He didn’t think such a tiny knife could kill anything. But they were probably meant to be souvenirs, rather than actual tools. Some of them had little designs on the handles. There was one with the words Redmond, Washington on it, under the city’s pine tree symbol.

Redmond? We aren’t in Seattle anymore? Did Heather even live in Seattle? He had always assumed so. His old apartment was in Seattle. But it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d gone hunting out of town, so to speak. She could have driven across the state in order to abduct her newest organ donor, even across the country. They couldn’t have reached a new state so quickly, though, so she probably still lived somewhere in Washington. Also, didn’t she have an address? Obviously. Everyone did. Why didn’t he check the address above her garage? There had to be one, but it had completely slipped his mind. I’m such an idiot. That’s why I got into this mess in the first place.

“Here’s your muffin.”

He jumped. “Shit, Heather, you could have said hello first. How do you walk so quietly?”

“You’re just zoned out half the time. You wouldn’t notice me if I came in with a tuba and a clown nose.” She gave him the muffin. In her other hand was another coffee, in a cup made out of green paper. “We can eat in the car. Come on.” 

He followed her to the door. The bell rang above their heads, one last time. The birds continued to screech, somewhere unseen in the bright blue sky.

The smell of stagnant water returned, but only until they entered the car again, where it was quickly replaced by the smell of leather seats. Jackie shifted to get as comfortable as he could, while Heather tapped her fingers on the wheel.

He studied his muffin. It had chocolate chips. He hadn’t eaten chocolate in… he wasn’t sure, actually. There had been a chocolate cake, at some point. So many shiny, new things. He was a magpie in a jeweler’s house, so fascinated by all these wonders of life. Another shiny, new thing to pass the time. 

He liked muffins. He wanted to eat it. Of course. Obviously. Why wouldn’t he? He was so hungry, God. He couldn’t imagine going on a strike now. He would faint first. The craving was so strong that he didn’t know how to even start. He hadn’t eaten in so long. 

“What’s wrong with the food?” she asked.

“Sorry.” He kept his stare down. Didn’t Heather have a thing against apologies? Too late now, anyway. He just needed to eat. He needed to get it over with. It made him sick, rising with a feeling like nausea in his stomach. His vision came unfocused, like rows of tilting mirrors, like the world was tilting on its axis. But he couldn’t look away, or stay still any longer.

“You know what, I think I forgot something in there.” Abruptly, Heather opened the car door and stepped outside. “Don’t wait for me. Bye.”

He turned towards her, but she was already gone, and he was by himself. 

He let out a short, shaky exhale. She definitely didn’t forget anything. It was surely a lie. Besides, it wasn’t like Heather to leave him unattended. She was probably watching from somewhere remote, where he couldn’t see her. But that was what mattered: he couldn’t see her, couldn’t feel her stare.

She’d done it for his sake, to give him that thin veneer of privacy. Was it guilt, or apathy? Disgust at his weakness? Or maybe even kindness, despite his better judgment. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

[kadextra]

I couldn’t watch the q!Bad lore stream live today and don’t feel like putting a bunch of vodblogs in the main tag, so I’m gonna try something new and put it all in one massive post

so if you missed seeing me on the dash and wanna read about me maybe losing my mind (depending on what happens as I watch) here ya go :D

WAIT WHAT??? Q!BAD IN LIMBO DEATH LIMINAL SPACE AGAIN AT THE START OF STREAM?????

MY GUY THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU‼️‼️‼️

oh there’s a second him that’s so trippy. he doesn’t recognize himself again, they’re walking together.

THIS IS SO COOL OH MY GOD?!?!?!? now they are digging in the sand??

ah so the corpse of… also himself is still at the deserted village, but its decomposed into a skeleton now. interesting DONT DRINK THE POISONED WATER NOT AGAIN ok good phew. good confirmation this is not a loop, there is new stuff happening that didn’t last time

dude this is so awesome he is cooking so hard. I’m gonna rewatch this whole part again later, I really love surreal stuff like this

nevermind it might actually be a loop? we went back right to where we were at the start. why does he keep sitting outside of the temple, and doesn’t go inside?

TOP FUNNEL 🕺🕺🕺

and we’re back. he can’t remember how to use the warp stone again :( the memory book is not in his hotbar uh oh.

Hi Ben o/

he doesn’t know the eggxhibition… you built this man, I’m gonna cry. NOOO HE DOESNT KNOW BOBBY IS DEAD AGAINNNNN

POMME. “MY DAUGHTER” WAAAAAHHH

“too early to put this up” <- referring to the día de los muertos decor. dude what time and day are you in

he found the egg hospital!!! oh no now he’s looking around erratically. I think he’s panicking :(((( and once again picked some flowers to self-soothe :((( god the flowers are so special to him, they seem to be like his main grounding thing. q!forever doesn’t even know the impact he made

he’s home!!!

dark matter by the vulture lab door uh? a knight armor guy sweeping??? is that a ghost??? what just happened?

oh god the vulture lab

IT WAS A GHOST THE ARMOR IS THERE AND THE BROOM IS IN THE CHEST. possessed armor that’s fun! :D

DAPPERRRRRRRRRR DAPPER MY BABY IS AWAKE AND ALIVE

dapper looks so horrible omg also her name is lowercased?

vacation. sure

“I didn’t get to keep it (the eye guy) as a pet.” yeah that’s definitely dapper.

also he doesn’t want to wear armor like the new eggs that’s weird

T E A. and q!bad’s memory is still fudged.

dapper your dad is very sick….

he remembers its been 2 months dapper has been gone! :0 DAPPER WAS NOT IN PURGATORY THE WHOLE TIME??? JUST A FEW DAYS???? EXPLAIN WHY NOW

q!bad keeps forgetting what they’re doing, and then goes off and does something else….. I don’t know if dapper fully realizes what’s going on, maybe she’s just too tired themselves to pay close attention to her dad?

“Since when did we have a farm?” Buddy.

PHILZA IS SOOOOO HAPPY TO SEE DAPPER LETS GOOO

“we hid him (dapper) underground, we weren’t sure if the island was safe” We? you and…? cucurucho?

DAPPER GOT YEETED INTO THE BOAT AHAHAHA

oh they really did get launched by the nuke and hit the boat I knew it. also I see you…. zooming into the back wound when phil said “you made it in one piece”

PRIVILEGED LOBSTER IS BACK REJOICE

chayanne was who led the eggs to leave? huh. chayanne you’ve got some explaining to do

not them talking about the eye guy’s snatched waist 💀💀💀💀 tbh they did slay

philza wants to beat up the eye guy and elquackity I support him so much

dapper hitting his dad off the top of the wall we’re so back!!!

ETOILES SEEING DAPPER and then fell off the wall LMAOOO

q!bad forgot that he forgot his memory

(I am so engrossed in the conversations I am forgetting to write things here lol)

“can we teach etoiles to cope” (with losing to the code) then they make him break a sign with 1s and 0s on it and he logs LMAO

q!bad just mentally zoned out and stared once again at flowers….. oh. the coughing :(

pomme was the leader when the eggs went surviving in the wilderness :3 that’s my girl!!!!!!

everyone just bouncing on the trampoline and chit-chatting is so sweet, I missed this <3

dapper is so based all the time

roier seeing dapper again awwwww

ough I really really missed dapper’s out of pocket jokes :(((

“I’ll get cleaned up for tomorrow, I’m sure it’ll turn out fine!” *hits F5* “I need pomme and the rest of the eggs to wake up, and I’ll probably feel right as rain…” haha stop it q!bad I don’t like this!!!!! 😃

he just said he didnt know a church was built here. now they’re at the graveyard talking about how he saw the dead eggs at día de los muertos </3 sobs sobs

Q!MAX T-T I miss you king o7

“learning how to raise the dead might come in handy” “we will worry about that later” ??? Please Stop That!

CODEBREAKERS JUMPSCARE

“I kinda won in this whole situation!” (the eggs being back) Sure bud. You aren’t dying or anything. You definitely have not entered limbo twice.

DAPPER PUTTING FLOWERS BY EACH EGG IN THE HOSPITAL. THE CROWN BY CHAYANNE GAHHHH AUGHHH GGUGHHG 💥💥💥

honey for smelly richas :3

q!bad saying dapper will like bagi and that she’s a really good friend, and will be his aunt. cries and punches a hole into the wall

More Coughing 👁️ dapper please help your father he needs serious medical attention.

BAD FORGOT ABOUT THE GHOSTIES THIS WHOLE TIME. BUT WE ARE FREE ONCE MORE!!

quit saying things are going to be okay I know you are jinxing something and it’s scary. there is a giant hole in your head and your back is turning green.

they’re going to see the prison and courtroom!!

WHAT DID HE JUST SAY

“forever for the crime of looking too handsome I sentence you to 10 years in prison!” UNPROMPTED? I know what you are 🏳️‍🌈‼️

I CANT DO THIS

FINALLY THE BIRTHDAY PARTY CELEBRATION FOR DAPPER. so many nights. so many nights where we’d watch him sit awake, crying at that table. waiting, waiting for something that would never come. but now it’s here. I’m in anguish

“once the eggs wake up we’ll have a big birthday party! a big ol birthday party. yep. a party.” why did you say that with such a weird tone sir?

DAPPER BURYING THEMSELVES WHEN HE FOUND OUT ALL THE MACHINES BROKE KKKKKKK

he reintroduced skeppy to dapper…

he is explaining the great furniture stealing to dapper. who was there when it happened and already knows. “my memory hasn’t been very good lately, I think.” Yeah You Think? I wonder q!bad forgot he’s the one who stole it all?

DAPPER IS BACK TIME

the child is locked outside

PFFT HES CHAINSAWING THE DOOR <3333 AND HAS AN ELEPHANT

yes dapper be salty at your dad for accidentally locking you out

REAL DAPPER TIME!!!!!!!

the sunshine recording omg. he played it for company the entire time they were alone… AAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHH HGHGHGHHGHGHGHGHGHHHGHGHGHGGHHGHFHFHGGFHFGHHHGHHBSBENFMFKS

dapper doesn’t know why q!bad is blue 😀 he doesn’t know…….. haha head in hands

they are going to visit Niki :3

OHHH HER REACTION TO DAPPER <333 she’s such a sweetheart. have I ever said how much I love niki? she was so great in purgatory, and earlier today I got to watch her meet empanada and bond over baking and sweets <3

nice look at the head wound from the inside

q!bad’s been so insistent on dapper going to the eye doctor, I have heard him say this so much over the last several days. even in his memory lapses he remembers it. Why? mr. colorblind YOU need to go to the eye doctor. go hospital.

yeah the alien ships from the map do look like eyes don’t they

based niki her favorite animal is elephants :3 SHUT UP Q!BAD YOU DEMON don’t eat the elephants

the hungriest little guy on the island strikes again

I’m just chilling listening rn, bad dapper and niki are so late night podcast vibes

perry the schnabeltier

TREASURE PLANET >>>>

in the dark of the night is kind of a q!bad song ngl

let’s go a washing machine in dapper’s lab :D oh that was a weird pause in the middle of your sentence bad :D

dapper is running on the ceiling!! they are so talented!

OH MY GOD.

SUNSHINE

bawling my eyes out hold on

the 3 months where q!bad has been so depressed and suffering just went flashing through my mind. every time he had sang the song in a teary broken voice, with nobody across from him listening. in the graveyard as a rainstorm raged above. but now his sunshine is back… hit me like a truck

they are gonna sleep hugging together tonight :’3

“I know it seems I’ve been out of character (since the beginning of the stream) but trust me, I haven’t. I’ve been in character this whole time…”

“Goodbye, see you tomorrow ….I’m sure everything is going to be just fine. :)”

I’m scared

—

well I guess this is the end of my vodblogging lore post!!! I hope it was fun to read jfjdjshdh it was just the thoughts I Would have posted if I was liveblogging. my eyes are still watery :’)

see you all tomorrow for whatever horrors await

[khazadspoon]

Late entry for @rawhidefandomweek day 2, using incident as the prompt

———

“Well…”

Rowdy winces at the word. Not only because it indicates he is about to be in a world of trouble, but also because it feels like his head could split apart at any moment. He lowers his chin a little and tries to curl in on himself and ignore the headache currently trying to hammer his mind into mush.

“Looks like you two had a good evening.”

Beside him, Quince rubs awkwardly at his chin. He’s braver than Rowdy when it comes to fessing up to their boss.

“It weren’t our fault, Mister Favor,” Quince starts with a raspy, dry voice. “Y’see, some folks said we wasn’t allowed to stay in town since were not from here and- well, me’n’Rowdy didn’t take kindly to that. So we sort of got into a bit of a fight and-”

“And wound up in jail?” Mister Favor says with a voice like distant thunder. “And it just so happens the sheriff’s son is lying in bed with a broken ankle when he should be getting married?”

Rowdy winces again, guilt rising in his throat. He feels Quince slump down and almost joins him. They must look about as pathetic as they feel, he thinks. “We’re sorry, boss,” he offers. Depending on the severity of the incident, sometimes just admitting you’ve done wrong can make all the difference to a man like Gil Favor.

This time, though…

“You two are gonna sit here and think about what happened last night. God willing you’ll actually learn something about getting in fights for no damn reason!” The words come out loud and clear, they ring through the air like a bell being struck by a hammer and Rowdy feels his face scrunch up in pain. Quince stiffens and makes a small noise beside him.

“Yessir,” they say in unison.

Mister Favor sighs and leans on the bars, his arms crossed over his chest and his hat tipped back. “I know you didn’t mean to cause a ruckus,” he starts, “I know you was just hoping to let off a little steam, but… we can’t keep doing this. I’ll talk to the sheriff and see about getting this all straightened out. Please, just stay here and let me handle it from here, alright?”

“Yessir,” they repeat again. Rowdy sees Mister Favor nod and push himself up to leave the cells.

“Think we’ll end up on drag for a week after this?” Quince asks him with a pained moan.

Rowdy shakes his head, closes his eyes and tries to push through the hangover with sheer stubbornness. “Nah. More like we’ll be on drag for a month.”

“Kill me now, Rowdy.”

“Oh I ain’t suffering on my own! It was you who threw that bottle-”

[chocolatecakeandbl]

your top five fave moments in LITA 👀

OMG NONNIE ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME? How should find ONLY 5 FAV MOMENTS? AHHH

Okay, alright. Let’s try to be normal and try to answer this like the rational being I should be, ah?

Number 1 (bc I’m such a cheesy romantic at heart it’s unbearable) “I will take care of you for the rest of my life” PROPOSAL

[Source]

Prapai, Sir, please, will you stop coming for my heart?! It’s just perfection. I mean. A real proposal here wouldn’t have worked, and would have somehow destroyed the whole dynamic PrapaiSky made their own. But this? This is them. 100%. Prapai not rushing into things, giving Sky a headup and a security at the same time. ‘I won’t go anywhere. It will always be you for me’. And isn’t that extremely beautiful? Are there any words expressing a deep seated love better than this? I highly doubt it. It’s simply perfect.  And can we talk about Sky’s smile? The ease? The trust, the LOVE we see there? Amazing.  He learned to love, learned what REAL LOVE is all through Prapai. He got to know how it feels to feel secure with someone. To know he want your best, and he wants your happiness.  I can’t express how much that affects me on so many levels I stopped counting. 

Number 2  THE CONFERENCE TABLE SCENE (bc fucking hell YES)

[Source]

This is a war. With Place No1, really. Because… I mean…. You get me, right?  That was beyond hot.  The little game those two were playing? Sky’s side-eyes and him biting his lip when he sees Prapai coming his way? Man was prepared from the start. Man was on a mission the moment he arrived (bc srsly. No shirt? No underwear. Hellllooooo~) Prapai entirely unhinged? The chair turn? The way he attaches himself to Sky’s skin as if he’s an oasis after an endless walk in the desert? THE WAY HE LIFTS SKY FROM THE CHAIR? Also… the hickey’s on Sky’s chest that were surely NOT make up.  Sky’s expressions? On point of how it looks when one gets rawed? I mean… we all know I’m a kinky little beast, but that one got even to me.  Jaw dropping scene. Really

Number 3 TRUTH SCENE

I’m not even close of being capable to express the whole scene as good as @bird-inacage, so please read this post if you wanna go into the feels. For me, personal, this scene means a lot. On a ’funny’ sidenote, Fort’s acting as Prapai single handedly got me out of my own trauma I was wallowing in since seven years. No joke.  It’s the quiet reassurance, the ‘I am here, I am hearing you out, I am not judging you badly for what happened to you, or how you think badly about yourself’. It just got me.  The tears that rolled down Prapai’s face? The pain he was going through knowing what Sky went through? Intense. The acting was intense. The scene was intense. The wounds it had reopened in myself were intense. But also the healing, the way you saw Sky healing just a tad bit. The “Can I love you?” - because let’s be real. This is THE fear if you ever got burned badly. I could ramble about that scene for hours. 

Number 4 RESCUE SCENE

Linking back to @bird-inacage again bc damn did that post do things to me.  (We’re running briefly into sad hours, pls forgive me) For several reasons that scene got to me. I might or might not have re-watched it several times just to see if it still triggers me or if I managed to heal.  I saw myself in Sky SO MUCH it was almost scary (Peat is a hell of an actor. Can we award him?). Not gonna go into detail bc I suspect no one’s ever wants to hear that. So just lemme say the way Prapai reacted was superb. In all those years I always wished for such a reaction, and seeing it on screen did a number on me.  It’s refreshing to see that there is this tiny possibility of hope for finding care in such moments.  The scene holds a special place in my heart and somehow became my comfort zone (as weird as it sounds.)

Number 5  FIRST TIME LOVE MAKING

[Source]

Not to be horny on main (but really, I can’t help it. It’s just the way I tick), but that scene was absolutely beautiful. It’s overflowing with love, tenderness and affection.  This is how love making should look like. The deep connection between them, the kisses, the adoration, the longing and yearning still running through them even though they are as close as two can be.  You get the feeling they want to become one, and honestly, is there anything more beautiful than this?

--

*Claps hand* Soooo. That’s it.

I hope I answered well enough without indulging into the million meta’s in my head that I can’t bring myself to write bc a) they gonna be shitty (I can’t write meta’s for life) and b) supposedly no one’s interested. 

[eponymousfics]

To tide you over during AO3 maintenance, have a deleted/alternate scene from the latest tsp chapter (33)!

This would've been the opening to the chapter but I wound up rewriting it because it didn't flow right.

A conversation between the family while Ichi and Reader were out buying beer:

Despite the differences, disagreements, and general dysfunction of their dynamic, the Matsuno family was a closeknit unit. Whatever happened in the world, that they were all together as a group was the one constant in the stream of minor entropies that was Life. It was insular and cozy and never saw more than superficial changes.

Until recently.

Just about as soon as the front door closed behind Ichimatsu and his partner as they went to buy more beers, Mom and Dad collapsed against each other in tears.

“Did you see that! Did you see how he already sounded like a real son-in-law? Isn’t that amazing! Isn’t that wonderful!”

“You boys have a lot to live up to when you finally get partners!” Dad said.

“Oh really? I thought you totally gave up on us already,” Todomatsu said, sounding unimpressed.

“Well—I mean, yeah—” Dad said, sending arrows through their chests, “—but, well, of course, I mean…right?”

“’Right’ what, Dad?” Choromatsu asked.

Their parents exchanged looks.

“Well, you know…if Icchan can do it…” Mom said meaningfully.

“What? That’s a horrible thing to say about one of your sons!” Choromatsu protested, although he did agree.

“Man, it’s gonna be hard to top a ski vacation right off the bat though,” Osomatsu laughed, sounding surprisingly care-free about it. Choromatsu glared at him, put out that he wasn’t more put out about it. How was Choromatsu supposed to be the reasonable emotional anchor when Osomatsu didn’t even seem remotely at sea anymore?? Why did he always do this?!

It was especially bad because everyone was right­—it was going to be hard to top Ichimatsu’s achievements here. He just seemed to be piling them on lately, and it didn’t seem like any amount of hard work or diligence could possibly get the rest of them caught up anymore. How could silent grumpypants Nyanmatsu secretly be the most suited to normie life?!

“True—maybe one of you can find someone who already owns a home,” sighed Mom wistfully.

“In this economy?” Todomatsu joked, which infuriated Choromatsu because he was going to say it unironically. Smart people talked about the economy.

“What about a car?” Dad added, also looking wistful. “At least a motorcycle—one of you should be hanging out at biker rallies!”

“That’s why you should buy me a hog!” Karamatsu said, waving his arms excitedly. No one acknowledged him.

“Maybe one of you can get a janitor job at a big office building so you have a better chance at meeting a salary worker! Or better yet, at a café in a big office building! You could get to know someone over their lunch order—”

“Hahaha—have you been reading romance novels again Mom?” Jyushimatsu asked.

“Wh—ahahaha! Of course not, I don’t—I certainly don’t read those kind of—”

“Me and Karamatsu did some dramatic readings of a bunch of them a while back,” Osomatsu said casually. “Super gross, Mom.”

“What?! Why on earth would you do th—” Mom sighed deeply, a hand on her forehead. “This is why you boys need to find partners, I can’t keep you in line forever!”

“That’s a bad reason to date someone, isn’t it?” Choromatsu said, frowning.

“Yeahhh…but it’s true and you know it, nii-san,” Todomatsu replied, idly tapping the side of his beer can with a delicate little tck tck. “If we don’t marry rich, we’re gonna die.”

“Only one of you needs to marry rich,” Mom said, reaching across the table to put a hand on Todomatsu’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you, Totty.”

“On it,” he replied with a grin. “Now that Ichimatsu-niisan is out of the way, maybe I’ll have a better chance.”

“Oh my god, you dry monster!” Choromatsu accused. “We shouldn’t be talking about our potential romantic futures like this!”

“Choromatsu is right. Where there is passion and true love, life will find a way!” Karamatsu said.

“…I feel less good about it when you put it like that, but yeah, kind of! We’re not a pack of olden time daughters who need to find husbands to provide for us!”

“Aren’t you? Aside from the gender stuff?” Dad said, entirely too frankly.

“I am!” Osomatsu drawled, holding up his beer in a mock toast.

“Me too!” Todomatsu added.

“Don’t be proud of that!” Choromatsu hissed. “How do you guys keep finding new ways of digging us deeper in the ‘shitty NEET’ hole?!”

“Ahh, like you’re not down here holding a shovel with the rest us,” Osomatsu said, swigging his can and evidently finding it empty.

“We should keep an eye out at the resort. Anybody who comes to ski must have some disposable income,” Todomatsu said.

“That-a-boy!” Dad cheered.

Choromatsu glared at the table. This was all wrong.

He prided himself on being the rational one, even though he went about it in the most irrational way. He was a champion of contorting logic round to frame it in the way that looked best at the time, which admittedly tended to backfire on him, but someone had to try and keep up appearances around here!

But Ichimatsu wasn’t just “keeping up appearances” anymore. He had…substance. He had you. He even seemed to have…just a little bit of self-worth, even though it was wildly antithetical to who he’d been for the last several years,.

It was amazing. Inspiring. Sickening. And deeply infuriating, from a dark, starved place where feral need sprang with claws out.

Choromatsu had to believe that it could happen to any of them, if it could happen to Ichimatsu. That meant this relationship with you had to go well, and that if the rest of his family was going to start getting serious about dating—meaning actually making moves rather than just whining at home—it needed to come from a better place than find a wealthy spouse so we can stay NEETs forever. They shouldn’t be talking about this whole free ski trip thing like it was the ultimate goal of having a relationship. It wasn’t right.

And if you or Ichimatsu ever heard them talking like this, it would definitely fuck things up, and they’d all be back to square negative one hundred.

Fuck, maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

“What about you, Choromatsu-niisan?” Jyushimatsu yelled in his face, happily.

“Wah!” Choromatsu fell over, and briefly couldn’t get up as his whole head spun in its marinade of alcohol. “What about me?! I’m doing fine with all of this!!”

He could tell that was the wrong answer from the raised eyebrows and subtle looks the others gave each other and scowled.

“…Sorry, what are we talking about?”

“Are you gonna try skiing or skateboarding??” Jyushimatsu said.

Choromatsu frowned. “Don’t you mean snowboarding?”

“Ahaha, oh that’s right. That champagne was better than I thought!”

Was this bad for them? Given the financial difficulty, it was extremely rare for all of them to be able to go on trips as a family, so it was only natural that everyone was excited, but…maybe getting spoiled like this would bring out the worst in all of them. His family tended to get carried away, and deep down he knew he was no exception.

How could they possibly manage not to embarrass themselves if they went? They didn’t ski, they weren’t skiers, who did they think they were?! They wouldn’t know what to do at a ski resort, they wouldn’t be able to conduct themselves properly, and the best case scenario was no one got injured. The worst case was total humiliation, both for his and your family, and possibly everyone in a hundred-mile radius, and maybe several dozen miscellaneous shattered bones. 

…Shit, was he going to try to cancel this trip?! Everyone would hate him if he even implied it! And he did want to go! Skiing was a cool person sport, even if he personally thought it looked ridiculous! How could he look a gift cat in the mouth? Argh, but the whole thing was so weird!

Ichimatsu had sounded so…normal on that call. Like…like a real person! It was worse than remembering how he’d been in high school, because at least you were allowed to be weird in high school, even if “weird” in this case actually meant “normal.”

It was not normal for Ichimatsu to be normal and Choromatsu was deeply afraid of the meaning behind it, and possible consequences. How much effort had it taken him to pretend for that long? Was the repressed stress of it going to come out later as murderous intent?

Or worse…was it going to become a habit?

“I…don’t know yet. I’ll have to do some research before we go,” he said, as he realized the others were still waiting for an answer. He couldn’t imagine Ichimatsu being like that all the time. It was so wrong. It couldn’t possibly be natural.

“Haha, that’s just like you to say, niisan.”

Was his brother’s whole relationship with you even a good thing, in that case? Did he feel pressured to not be himself in order to be with you? Didn’t they always say you should only be with someone long-term that you could be yourself around? How much of himself did Ichimatsu have to hide from you?

“You know me,” he said vaguely, eyes firmly fixed on his inner monologue.

Sure, you seemed to have a relatively high tolerance for weirdness, since you were still here, but maybe Osomatsu had a point. Maybe they did need to test you. It was for Ichimatsu’s sake in the end, after all, wasn’t that what a good big brother would do?

No, no, no…that couldn’t end well. But what could he do? What should he do?

[thygoddessouijathicc]

Gunshot (DSAF Fanfic)

(Disclaimer: I’ve not been doing great lately with keeping up with my fics, and I’m sorry this has taken so long because of that. There will hopefully be a mass upload soon. 

Also, I’m not a doctor so I don’t know exactly how this stuff works bare with me. I’m just a weirdo who likes DSAF, creative writing, and the occasional nice spot of gore. I did look at an article on first aid for this particular type of wound to keep it somewhat accurate, but it may be a little off. Feel free to murder me in the comments for my medical malpractice.)

It was a relatively normal day at the Fazbender’s pizzeria, although it didn’t feel that way. All day it had felt like something was off, like something bad was going to happen.

Everyone had felt it, even Matt seemed slightly uncomfortable, his smile less pronounced than usual. Which honestly was an improvement but it was still creepy.

Jack and Dave had spent most of the day hiding in the Saferoom playing Uno.

Of course phoney comes in to yell at them from time to time, but they just ignore him.

The two men were enjoying this day despite the sinister aura, of course they were, they were in the Saferoom which had a very particular lack of Matt.

Eventually the fun had to come to an end however, when Dave did something that he never could have known was anything but harmless; he complained about being hungry.

Jack had brought food today (that had been the deal, he brought food, Dave brought Uno), but they had long since run out. 

Initially Jack ignored Dave’s complaints as they didn’t have to wait much longer until their job was over and they could go home, but he wouldn’t stop. 

Eventually Jack accepted defeat and ordered a pizza (yes they were in a pizzeria, but even with both of them being nigh unkillable zombies they weren’t willing to risk consumption of the toxic waste Freddy’s tried to pass off as pizza.)

“When is it gonna get here! I’m dying!” Dave whines, “You’re looking more appetizing by the minute. If it’s not here soon we’re finally going to find out if you’re an orange or a tangerine.”

“Relax Aubergine, it’ll be here in 5 minutes, company guarantee. Also if you try it I’ll tase you.”

“I’ll eat your taser. I’ve done it before.”

“Pah! Empty threats I’d tase you till you fucking exploded.” Jack says, taking out the taser in question and activating it as a sort of threat. 

Dave was unperturbed, simply snatching the taser, and with a smug face, swallowing it whole, the object making for a strange outline travelling down his giraffe-like neck.

Jack’s face was one of fear, astonishment, slight arousal and annoyance.

“We were talking for about 5 minutes Sportsy, better go get that pizza~” Dave says, with a wide smile across his purple face.

Jack just sits there for a moment, staring blankly, Dave acting as if he didn’t eat a taser. Eventually he silently stands up and basically runs out of the room.

Dave lays back in his place (he had brought a pillow in, stolen from Jack’s house of course, so he wouldn’t have to lay on the filthy floor.)

A few minutes later he hears a gunshot. 

Dave just rolls his eyes, he doesn’t care if someone got shot.

He does however care that 12 minutes later his Sportsy isn’t back.

Suspecting that Jack had been caught by Phoney or abandoned him Dave stands up and for the first time that day, leaves the room.

It doesn’t take long to find Jack.

The orange man is laying in a pool of his own blood with a clear bullet wound visible on his chest staining his uniform a horrible crimson, the wall behind him has an indent in it for where the bullet impacted, seemingly having gone the whole way through. Fortunately the wound is on the right side so it didn’t hit Jack’s heart. Unfortunately it seems to have fully punctured his right lung as Jack now lays on the ground breathing shallow, and his frantic movements slowing.

He’s alive. Barely. And whoever did this got away.

Dave rushes to Jack’s side and grabs his shoulders. “HOLY FUCK OLD SPORT ARE YOU OK?!?”

Jack looks like he wants to say something but can’t. Probably because he’s now drowning in his own blood and that makes talking slightly difficult.

Dave has absolutely not dealt with something like this before. Sure he’s been shot, he recalls dying that way once, although he could be wrong because he was pretty high at the time he thinks it may have happened.

However being shot doesn’t exactly teach one what to do when someone else is shot. Especially when you either died from it and used borderline magic to shake it off, or happened to have a surgeon father figure who unfortunately for this situation never explained how to do any of this. Well Dave wasn’t exactly sure Henry was a surgeon, but he did say he was a doctor and had spoken about doing them before.

Although Dave mostly saw him as one because of a strangely vivid dream he had of waking up on an operation table with his chest open, his heart in Henry’s hand and when he panicked Henry injecting him with something that ended the dream.

Back to the matter at hand, Dave had absolutely no idea how to help Jack at all. Although at the very least he knew he couldn’t help him here and thus decided to pick up a barely conscious Jack and carry him back to the Saferoom.

Dave propped Jack up on the pillow he had brought.

Fortunately sitting up was exactly what Jack needed because now that he was no longer on his back he could let the blood escape his mouth.

The tangerine broke into a violent coughing fit as Dave watched in horror, and then, as if he had done it before, he shakily reached up to his mouth and shoved his fingers to the back of it, activating his gag reflex and prompting him to puke up massive amounts of blood on the floor.

“S-sport…” Dave manages to stutter out, most definitely not having expected Jack to do that.

“I’m pretty much immortal so I should be able to survive this.-“ Jack says between heavy coughing. There’s a strange hissing sound coming from his bullet wound. “Without treatment probably. I’ll… I’ll still probably need you to… help… so I don’t die now.” Jack’s voice is fading as he collapses on his side, breathing heavily.

Dave sits him back up again and Jack immediately repeats the same process as earlier, puking up the blood filling his lungs.

“How can I help ya?” Dave says, uncomfortable with seeing Jack in such a pathetic condition.

“…cover… holes…” Jack manages to choke out, visibly getting weaker.

Dave stands up, scanning around the room for something to cover up the bullet wounds with.

His eyes land on a roll of duck tape. He snatches the tape off the table and presents it to Jack. “Will this do Old Sport?”

“…yeah… just… shirt… off…” Jack seems to be fading faster by the minute. Jack is ALMOST immortal, but not quite. He’s still quite killable but can survive more. If Dave doesn’t act soon he’ll really be gone. Dave isn’t sure what he’d do in a world devoid of Sportsy, they’d been together so long that having him die on him… no it’s best not to think about the worst case scenario. Jack WILL survive. 

Dave strips off Jack’s shirt, noticing the blood around the wound foaming. He wipes it aside with his sleeve then starts to apply the duck tape over the bullet wounds, adding probably far more tape than he needed.

Jack hacks up a little more blood and then lays back, breathing deeply. 

“That was a fucking close one.” Dave comments. 

“I’ll say.” Jack says flatly, still recovering. “Is this my pillow that went missing?”

“…no.”

“Sure it’s not. Stop breaking into my house.

“I don’t want to~” Dave purrs. “The fuck happened anyway how did you get shot?”

“It was the Candy the cat fucker. He broke in again and I didn’t have my taser on me because SOMEONE ate it, so I couldn’t stop him. He shot me, and then bolted. I don’t think he realized the gravity of what he was doing until then.”

“Sorry Sportsy…”

“For what? You just saved my miserable life. Ok maybe I don’t like the fact that I’m alive upon further consideration but I doubt I’d prefer being dead.”

“If I hadn’t eaten your taser none of this would have happened.”

“Yeah well it was honestly pretty funny and it’s more of a mild inconvenience once the bullet wounds are covered.” Jack shrugs, before wincing in pain.

“Still…” 

“I promise you I’m not mad. You’re forgiven. You just need to buy me a new taser.”

“Well if you’re happy I’m happy. You still haven’t gotten me food. I’m not a patient man, Old Sport.”

“I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to…”

“Good then we can pick up some MacDongalds on the drive to your apartment.”

“…I take it that that’s your special way of inviting yourself to my home again?”

“Oh absolutely. I’ll never give up an opportunity to go home with my Old Sport, plus, you clearly can’t drive right now, and my home situation is… not one. I got evicted last week because all Fazbender’s pays is tokens and you shockingly can’t pay your rent in tokens.”

“Sure you can if you get a good landlord.”

“…Say Sportsy does that apartment building of yours have any places for sale?”

“Nope, looks like your stuck in the dumpsters Aubergine man.”

“):”

“Oh don’t be like that…”

“))))):”

“Fine you can stay in my apartment until you can get your own.”

“:D”

.

.

.

The two didn’t talk much on the drive to Jack’s apartment. They didn’t need to. Jack was resting, still shirtless, which Dave definitely didn’t mind- wait no, gay thoughts bad. Not right now. They both knew Dave wouldn’t need any directions to get to the apartment.

They stopped at McChungis where Jack ordered nothing but a small burger smothered in horseradish, and Dave ordered a truly unholy amount of fries and milkshakes. (McDangDangDanglds accepts fazcoin!)

Once they reached the apartment building and parked, Dave helped Jack limp up to the elevator, where they terrified a young woman with a child with both their mannerisms and Jack’s bullet wound.

They eventually get to Jack’s floor and find his room after some trial and error (Jack didn’t remember his room because it was a somewhat new place, he was running on adrenaline, and he was tired. Fortunately but creepily, Dave did.)

Once they get into the apartment, Jack sits down.

“So, what should we do now Spo-“ Dave is interrupted by the sound of Jack loudly snoring, now curled up on the couch.

Dave picks Jack up bridal style and brings him to his room, laying him down gently. 

Just as he’s about to walk away Jack pulls him back instinctively. Dave decides he’s tired anyway and he’s always up for anything that puts him closer to Jack, so he lays down beside him.

“I love you.” Dave mutters under his breath before falling asleep.

“I love you too…” Jack replies, it’s hard to say if he were awake or not.

(Note: Again, sincere apologies for this taking 100 years to make, please do give Reqs I’m just slow but I will get to them.

Well anyway I hope you enjoyed your Ouija brand Davesport with a side or bullet wounds!)

[ellen-shame]

Ten Opening Lines

thanks for the tag, @yabagofmilfs and sorry it's taken me soooo long to do!

Rules: list the first line of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any.

I have not yet published ten stories so I'll do some WIPs too!

(you and me) supersede - 'Sid can’t stop pacing around the covering bed.'

2. (begging for a piece of that) bubble - 'Sid tosses his robe on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and stands gloriously naked as he pokes around trying to find his sleep shirt.'

3. Gentle Violence

'r/penguins

4/3/2010 u/UserMcLoser Rumours that Malkin is scent marking Crosby on the reg?? Apparently it’s an open secret in the league that Malkin’s courting Crosby… View full post ⬆️90'

4. Reverenced Helplessness - '“Hot in here, eh?” Sid says.'

5. (this is how you make yourself) vanish into nothing - 'Maybe it starts like this:'

6. (wow wow wow wow) that's low brow - 'Six weeks after they start - dating? hooking up? having sex every night and sleeping next to each other every night and saying things like God, you’re really beautiful in bed, not like every night but not infrequently either -

(- which is like six and a half weeks after Jamie says with incredible, gorgeous, amazing casualness that he’s into men as well as women -)

(- and like six weeks and two days after Jamie becomes the first person Trevor ever comes out to on purpose, as in like, for the sake of being open and honest as opposed to for the sake of I think we’re about to jerk each other off but I don’t want you to punch me if I’ve misjudged the vibe -)

(- well like, not that Trevor totally wasn’t thinking that coming out to Jamie on purpose might increase the chances of them jerking each other off, because that’s also six weeks and a half weeks after Trevor realises with all the abruptness of an elevator wooshing down and leaving your stomach in your chest that he finds Jamie incredibly attractive -)

(- so anyway, six weeks and two days after Trevor says to him, I think I might be gay, and then really hates that might and decides it doesn’t count unless you do the thing properly and adds, I mean. I think I probably am, and Jamie says, Okay -)

(- which is to say, six weeks after Trevor spends two days dancing around Jamie, getting wound tighter and tighter, chest pounding, lowkey feeling like he’s about to puke, wondering if it’s all in his head or if he’s right to think Jamie’s also dancing around him, and then they go up to their roof to watch the sunset and both turn to each other at the same time and kiss like they’d planned it and Trevor’s head explodes -)

- anyway, six weeks after that, Jamie calls from the bathroom one morning that he’s thinking about growing a moustache.'

7. (WIP) steelheart - 'Geno was supposed to be back at 8, but at 8.06 he texts Sid sorry late.'

8. (WIP) (don't look at me, you've got a) girl at home - 'Nolan is sleeping less nowadays.'

9. (WIP) (i'm gonna pop your) bubblegum heart - 'Auston has been put on baby-sitting duty.'

10. (WIP) Encyclopaedia - 'There's a new guy in Auston's adult literacy class.'

Comments: Hmm, I think I have a tendency to start with short little sentences that sound fairly everyday and unremarkable, but which quickly lead into the main issue of the fic. However, I definitely played around with different forms outside my comfort zone in these fics - the most obvious examples being vanish into nothing and that's low brow. My favourite might be vanish into nothing because I really enjoy writing that self-consciously plays with the fact that it is writing. I also remember really wrestling with the opening of that's low brow, very aware that I was doing something very much outside my usual style, but trying to capture the maelstrom of feelings and experiences Trevor had just gone through.

Let me know if you spot any other habits of mine! I love talking about writing.